Alani – Piña Colada

Again, the tall, skinny cans, like a Red Bull tallboy—and it strikes me how you would guess, by its size, that it’s less than 12 ounces—which makes me wonder about all the machinations that went into determining the proportions of the standard 12 once can. The next thing that struck me was that it smells gross—and with this flavored sparkling water, the smell is the taste, so… Oh, well, I had to try it—and… gross, with a capital S. Maybe I was influenced by being at the dentist the other day, and the woman cleaning my teeth said they were out of mint toothpaste, but they had other flavors, so I laughed and asked what my choices were, and one was Piña Colada—so I tried that. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was exceedingly gross. The art on the can is hilarious—though it doesn’t really look like pineapple and coconut—I don’t know what it looks like—but I like it. The sad thing is, the Piña Colada was one of my favorite drinks when I was young—a delicious cocktail. But when I think about it, a virgin Piña Colada does sound gross—as in… no. Maybe the thing to do with this particular water is mix it with some kind of rum—not sure if light or dark—and some alchemy might occur, and you might end up with a delicious, less-sweet Piña Colada. I think I suggested that with some other sparking water—I mean, mixing it with an appropriate spirit. I’m not going to fall for it, though. I’m not going to start drinking. It occurs to me now that this sparkling water business could very well be a slippery slope.

5.23.23