Agua de Piedra – Natural Mineral Water

This is the best bottle I’ve yet seen—well, the bottle is light green glass, and 22 ounces—but the label is really great looking, kind of classy and classic, old time—it looks like it could be from the Old West—but not self-consciously so. It’s got a cap that you need an opener with, which is always exciting. It’s a mineral water from Mexico. The bottle says: “Our natural spring water owes its unique flavor to the mineral profile provided by filtration through the geological formations of the Huasteca Basin from Nuevo Leon, Mexico.” I can’t say it better than that. Their website looks nice—doesn’t tell you a lot—but has some nice photos of crazy outcroppings of rock. Piedra translates to stone. I mean, it’s always kind of hard to believe this water is out in nature somewhere, dripping down and being mineralized, and then they bottle it “at the source” etc. I guess the carbon dioxide is added for carbonation. I suppose there are many ways to achieve carbonation and you could become a connoisseur of that alone. This one reacted really weirdly in the glass—it kept bubbling for a long time, and unevenly, which was exciting. The water is very good, quite delicious. The mineral taste is subtle, which is okay. I don’t know if I could tell it from other mineral waters in a taste test, but if I had to drink this and only this, I’d be happy with it.

8.10.23

Simple Truth Organic – Mango Grapefruit Seltzer

Another company going with the tall, skinny cans. I have to admit that I like that style. The brand, “Simple Truth Organic” is made by Kroger—it’s their “organic” line of products—that I can only hope are legitimately organic. I will try not to hold a grudge—I’ll just assume the seltzer division has no tangible connection to the arm of Kroger that has destroyed my neighborhood grocery store through mismanagement, greed, and complete disregard for the customer. I expected the worst here—“Mango Grapefruit?”—it sounds like someone’s getting a little too conceptionally (what’s that word? ) whimsical. But hey, it’s not half bad. Well, it’s better than that. (I suppose “not half bad” actually means, “not good”—so wrong choice of words—but that’s what popped into my head.) It’s actually good. I don’t notice the grapefruit—but I do notice the mango, which can be a dominating flavor. But maybe in this case the grapefruit functions by muting the mango, to some degree, and enhancing it. It is perhaps a smart flavor combination, after all. Well done, Seltzer Division. This will actually encourage me to try other of their varieties—and not simply ignore them due to their affiliations.

8.3.23

Hoplark Sparkling Water – Mosaic Hops

As of the writing of this (see date on bottom), this is my number one sparkling beverage drink. The two-tone, light blue and white can is music to my ears. It goes down faster and with more enthusiasm than beer used to—when I lustily drank (too much) beer. I am composing love letters to the chef who makes it (right here, you’re reading it—admittedly you have had to do the legwork to find this love letter). It’s one of Hoplark’s hop waters—unlike the hop teas, no tea, just hops and sparking water. It’s really good. Maybe one of the more hoppy hop beverages I’ve had—is that because there’s more hops in the recipe, or it’s using hops with more pronounced flavor? I don’t know. According to the can, it’s “Mosaic Hops”—so I’ll have to claim ignorance—or look that up. It’s a kind of hops that’s been developed from breeding other kinds of hops. It seems to be a popular one in beermaking. It’s supposed to be fruity and citrus and pine—according to the can: “Pine-Forward.” Hell yes. To me, it’s just delicious—I can never make all those flavor comparisons, like with coffee, you know (“notes of raspberry, gun oil, and Faulkner”). To me, something is either gross or delicious. But… I read about hops for a while—there’s now between a billion and… infinite varieties—just like you’d expect, as the beer makers have gone nuts. I guess that’s a pretty cool thing—which I’ve more or less ignored since I stopped drinking beer in the early Nineties. But now, at least… I get to enjoy hops! So I’m excited about it. At some point I’ll have to do some taste tests to see if I can tell the difference between this hop and that—and see if I can develop preferences. But for now, I’m just excited about finding more hop water.

7.25.23

Richard’s Rainwater – Still

Contents: Rain. That’s what it says. Yes, it says that. I believe it. I want to believe it. I wonder if this is correct, though—I mean, the difference between rain and rainwater. I’m thinking it’s rain when it’s coming down, but once it’s been earthbound, collected, it becomes rainwater. They know that, though, if that’s the case. They’re just being cute saying: “Ingredients: rain.” It certainly captures your imagination. The taste is no taste, fresh and clean—it’s as good tasting as any plain, still water I’ve ever had. It goes down like nothing. It comes in a 16 ounce can with a really nice design—small, stylized, two-tone raindrops, alternating two versions, utilizing three shades of blue—a clever, killer design. Naturally, there’s a good website that explains more—I’ll read it sometime. A guy named Richard started the company. (Not to be confused with Richards Wild Irish Rose bumwine. Though, if that company wants to get in the sparking water game, I’m on board for “Triple Peach!”) This Richard’s also makes carbonated rainwater—which I’ll try when I find some. (Though… carbonated rainwater? Kinda weird.) And then, someday, what I’d really like to do is visit wherever the rain is captured and ultimately put in these containers. That’s got to be fascinating. I really like the idea. Of course, many questions arise.

7.17.23

La Croix – Tangerine

Pretty much anyone blindfolded would guess this one as tangerine—they really nailed the flavor of the actual fruit—and I suppose part of that is the heady smell of the rind, the oils that spray up when you peel it. The water is so tangerine, in fact, it’s almost boing—and makes you long for one of those you’re on the fence about. Or maybe that’s just me—maybe you appreciate something that’s done well. This is a really good one. Really tasty—and I’d definitely grab it at an event—when I desire both stimulation and comfort. On a sad note, it reminded me that I somehow failed to buy a little box of clementines last winter/holiday season—were they not in the store? Now it’s 4th of July already. Why is it oranges at Christmas and hot dogs on 4th of July? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Does anyone have a clementine water? How about kumquat water? I’m a bit curious, now, how this one compares to La Croix’s “Orange” flavored water—but I’m not going to get into that taste-test mania—I mean, pitting one against another. I’ll get to that one eventually. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the tangerine—the name came from Tangier (Morocco)—just read that—seems obvious now that I know it. And from tangerine, no doubt, came Tang.

7.3.23

S.Pellegrino – Sparkling Natural Mineral Water

This is the mineral water I most commonly see, and have for years, and I’ve always liked it. The one I’m drinking right now is in a 750ml green glass bottle—it’s got a nice label that resembles printed currency, with a distinctive red star on the label and cap. On the label it says: “Bottled at the source, San Pellegrino Terme (Bergamo) Italy.” I could look that up on a map, but I haven’t traveled in Italy—it would just make me long to get out of town. It’s an extremely pleasant, gentle, slightly mineral tasting, sparking water. I’d drink it all day every day if it was in front of me. I saw some website’s ranking of mineral waters awhile back (I read those things occasionally, for fun, not seriously) and this ranked dead last, and they said it had gone downhill—but I don’t buy it. It tastes good to me, and I have no reason to believe that. One thing that does bother me is they also sell this in plastic bottles, as well as glass—I don’t know if the plastic affects the flavor—but I’m guessing it does. Plus, plastic is bad. No two ways about it. If I have the option to buy the glass bottle, of course I’d buy the glass. I suppose if you’re running around town on a hot day and want to carry a big bottle of sparking water in your backpack, plastic would be lighter, but I’m not going to fall for it—the water is what’s heavy. There’s no point in the plastic bottle—I won’t review anything that only comes in plastic.

6.27.23

Sierra Nevada – Hop Splash

This is the Sierra Nevada Brewing Co. version of sparkling hop water—made with Citra and Amarillo hops—if that means anything to you. I suppose I could learn what qualities these different hops have—if I drink enough of these hop waters, I might. This combo is supposed to impart notes of peach, mango, and grapefruit. I can see that. I would also add: Laura Nyro. Though… that might be because I’m listening to Laura Nyro right now. I guess it’s not a controlled experiment. One thing I did notice, when you smell it, in the glass, before tasting it, it smells kind of poopy. But then, if you think about it, peach and mango, and even grapefruit smell a little poopy. On the other hand, maybe I need to wash out my tasting glass. Once it enters your mouth, though, that poopy smell goes right away and it’s delicious. I don’t think Sierra Nevada is going to quit making beer—they’re from way back in the making-good-beer craze, as I remember. The back of the can says: “Not the right time for a beer, but got a hop craving?” That’s funny… but when I used to drink beer, I don’t think it was exactly the hops that I craved. And there was never any time that was “not the right time for a beer.” Of course, for me, it hasn’t been the right time for a beer in over 31 years now. Though now, against all odds, I do, quite frequently, have a hop craving.

6.20.23

Acqua Panna – Natural Spring Water

You might want to make sure you have a clean palate before trying this one, because its charms are subtle. This is not a sparkling water—but I bought it anyway, because I liked the bottle. I am mostly focusing on sparkling water, but I can make some exceptions. This one tastes exactly like water that comes out of my faucet, after it’s gone through the Brita filter, that is. It certainly is clean and refreshing, but I can’t taste any mineral character. It’s simple spring water from Tuscany, Italy, and they say they’ve been taking it from the Earth since 1564. I really like this bottle—it’s a half-liter size, clear glass that has a slight green tinge to it. The label is classy looking, simple gray and white, with orange letters: Acqua Panna, and an orange fleur-de-lis. The cap (which requires an opener) is white with a silver and orange fleur-de-lis—very cool looking. The whole enterprise seems classy—I like the idea of making this your regular water—you’d feel like a rich person, indeed—have a case of it in your house at all times. I mean, I won’t—because I’m a goofball, a clown, a philistine—trying every flavor known to man. But I like the idea of the me that says: this water is enough.

6.11.23

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

Hoplark Sparkling HopTea – the Really Hoppy One

This has a few more ingredients than what I’m used to drinking, so I was hoping it wouldn’t freak me out, but some friends bought it for me, so I had to try it. It was only a matter of time until someone came along with something as refreshing and as mood altering as beer. Well, refreshing due to the flavor and the hops, and mood altering due to the black tea. Let’s face it—if what you need is alcohol, you’ll find alcohol. This one is really delicious—as good as anything I’ve had lately—and that’s saying a lot. Well, maybe it’s tied with the other hop drink I had, but so far, the hop drinks are two for two (as in home runs)—I’m gonna try them all! This is from Boulder, a city in Colorado I’d like to move to, but I think it’s too sunny for me. It comes in an attractive 16 ounce can with more words on it than Dr. Bronner’s—well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. They have quite a website, it really goes all out. They’ve got more products than I can take in right now—I’ll wait to see what else I find at the store. This isn’t cheap—but probably shouldn’t be, for the quality—and also, nothing is cheap anymore. There must be more people out there besides myself who are looking for drinks that are non-alcoholic, sugar-free, and gluten-free. We might all feel like we’re the only ones, in this world of wheat, sugar, and booze. But no—there are companies like this one taking chances and betting their products will sell themselves.

5.11.23

Good & Gather Sparkling Water – Pomegranate Dragon Fruit

Here is another brand of sparkling water I haven’t yet tried—it says “distributed by Target”—I don’t know if it’s made by Target—whatever that would mean. This one, Pomegranate Dragon Fruit is okay, subtle at least. I’ve eaten pomegranate, but I can’t remember what it tastes like—does it have a flavor? Of course, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve eaten dragon fruit at least once, but I can’t remember what it tastes like. Putting these two together strikes me, on one hand, like a bit of a stunt—like who’s gonna argue with that? On the other hand, it’s kind of like you’ve got two troublemakers in your crew, so what do you do? You put them together, and hopefully they work together, but if not, maybe they cancel each other out. Or, at any rate, you can keep an eye on them. That’s probably a dumb analogy—maybe dragon fruit/pomegranate is a thing. Okay… so, someone makes some pomegranate dragon fruit mojitos—that doesn’t exactly distinguish it. The Good & Gather brand has put together a few intriguing combinations—I’ll have to try them—if I’m able to get to Planet Target, again, to find them.

4.6.23

La Croix – Lime

I picked up a can of La Croix Lime while I still had some KeyLime left—so that I could do a taste test—kind of a fun idea. As it turns out, I wouldn’t have really needed to do that—they are both pretty well-defined in my memory. I suppose Lime La Croix is one of the most boring flavors out there—you can find it at all the events where they don’t want to offend anyone. I knew exactly what this would taste like, and so do you. It’s kind of funny, the world of lemons and limes. There’s a lot there—you could spend a Saturday looking up lime and lemon history, lore, and anecdotes. I used to say that my favorite food was lime—kind of being an asshole (because limes are exactly no one’s favorite food)—but it was true! That was before my favorite food became kale. Though I may revert back to orange Hostess Cupcakes. When are they coming out with a kale water? Probably is one, just haven’t found it yet. Next time you’re at an art opening and you see some La Croix Lime, think about this review, and have a little laugh.

3.25.23

Lagunitas Brewing Co. – Hoppy Refresher – Sparkling Hop Water

I used to joke that I finally found a gluten-free, non-alcoholic beer—then I’d put my glass under the water faucet. It seemed like a hopeless endeavor, and also one that no one would bother with nor be crazy enough to carry out. But suddenly, only 30 years after I quit drinking beer, I’ve seen several sparkling hops waters—and I finally tried this one, and it’s quite delicious—a little flowery, a little fruity, a little bitter, but just pretty irresistible for me—I could drink this every day. It’s from Lagunitas Brewing Company, in Petaluma, California. Apparently, they’re a… brewing company, as in beer. There was time when I knew all the breweries, from the old ones to the new ones, but anymore, could any one person keep up? I don’t think I could, even if I still drank beer. Anyway, this is a cute one—the can’s got a cartoon dog with a snorkel mask, whatever that means. The ingredients—besides water and natural flavors—are dried hops and nutritional brewer’s yeast—so that’s interesting. What does it taste like? The fact that it’s hard to describe is a good sign. It doesn’t really taste like beer—well, not at all—but it does have that bitter edge that some beer has—so that’s enough to remind me of beer. But it’s complex—that’s a good quality, too, when something tastes like several things at once—and you can’t really put your finger on any of them. I’m going to have to get more of this, sometime, and I’m going to have to try all the hop water, now.

3.9.23

La Croix – Key Lime

There’s a Lime La Croix and a Key Lime La Croix, but that doesn’t mean one tastes like regular lime and the other like key lime. They both taste somewhat limey, however, and they’re both good. Their approach to Key Lime, though, isn’t purely a citrus one, it’s a water that’s meant to taste like key lime pie—and if that sounds gross to you, wait a minute! There is a lot of argument over how to make the best key lime pie, and if you want to get into that, watch out, there are rabbit holes around every corner. But you can have fun if you don’t take it too seriously. I personally eat no pie at all, but if I did, I certainly would enjoy all variations of key lime pie. The La Croix website describes this water as: “starting with creamy notes of toasted meringue” and “combines the tart, crisp KeyLime essence with a rich graham cracker finish.” Obviously, that is 100 percent pie. Despite the bullshit wine talk, that actually nails down this water fairly accurately. Personally, I suspect that they achieve this in a similar way to their Limoncello water—first the citrus flavor, then throw in some vanilla. There may be more to it than that, but either way, it works. This flavor is both breezy and robust, meaty, yet refreshing—which is exactly what you want in a flavored sparkling water.

2.25.23

Fiuggi – Sparking Natural Spring Water

I bought this water from my neighborhood Italian grocery store—where things aren’t the cheapest, but it’s worth shopping there because the experience is a positive one. It’s a carbonation-added spring water from Italy—it comes in a big (1 liter) green glass bottle with a timeless looking label. It looks like something I shouldn’t be able to afford. It’s fresh and clean, and the mineral taste is subtle. There’s a mineral analysis on the label, if those numbers mean anything to you. I looked for it on the worldwide search, and the first thing that came up was a website for the Ambasciatori Place Hotel, in Fiuggi—something of a spa, it seems. They offer floatation at the “Tangerine Spa”—though I’ll be floating right here, at home, after a liter or so of this. There is a whole page about the benefits of Fiuggi water and its specific uses and treatments for various ailments and preventions. They take it quite seriously. I’ve got to check my receipt to make sure this water didn’t cost me three hundred dollars… though it would be too late now, seeing how I’m drinking it. Notes on the label also tell us that it’s “ideal to accompany the best international cuisine.” That covers it! Oh, and I almost missed it… in the top, left corner it says: “For several centuries, Fiuggi has been the favourite water of artists like Michelangelo and Popes like Boniface VIII.” Impressive. Perhaps one day they will reprint the label to add: “As seen on rspeen.com.”

2.12.23

Alani – Cotton Candy

It occurred to me right off the bat that this water could be dangerous—or slightly dangerous, anyway—just because of the weird vibe I got from the can. They made it taller and thinner than a regular can, so you think “Red Bull,” I guess, but it’s still 12 ounces, so it’s alarmingly tall. Also, the artwork looks like they half-assed it—I mean it’s a mess—but then again, maybe they are trying too hard. I don’t know… but who would make cotton candy flavored water? What flavor is cotton candy, anyway? Well, the weird thing is, it does actually taste like (my memory of) cotton candy (it’s been a few decades). Also, more than any water I’ve tried, I got the distinct impression that there was alcohol it it—so much so, I had to check the ingredients. But no. No, I wasn’t disappointed, I was relieved. Now that I think about it, this Alani Cotton Candy water seems exactly like something a clown would drink. Should that warm me up to it, or terrify me? I actually like it, too. Should that terrify me? I was almost expecting them to not have a website at all, but there is one. However, after looking at it for about ten minutes, nothing there made a bit of sense to me, and all I could think was: get me the fuck out of here. Sometimes, the best thing in the world is the “quit” button. I was thinking of looking for fan clubs of this water—or support groups for people trying to deal with it—but instead, I did the smart thing and dropped a hand grenade down the rabbit hole and went to bed.

1.31.23

Polar – Cranberry Lime

I made some cranberry sauce recently—adding no sugar at all, since I’ve stopped eating sugar. Cranberries are very tart and kind of bitter, so people usually use sugar. I threw in some raisins, because I knew I needed some sweetness. Also, some spices—ginger, and that other one I can’t think of. I started with too much water and then cooked it down a lot to get the desired thickness. So there is no berry texture left—however, the raisins turned back into grapes, which is weird. All that to say, no one ever eats just plain cranberries—they’re always mixed with something. And no one drinks straight cranberry juice (except medicinally, for urinary infection and whatnot)—it’s usually mixed with something. In the case of this water, it’s lime—though it tastes neither like cranberry nor lime, that much. Just an odd flavor, subtle, almost none—but then a pronounced aftertaste that’s not all that pleasant. I suppose the most logical function with this water would be to use it to make a cocktail—probably by mixing this with vodka, which would be similar to a sugar-free Cape Cod cocktail—which, of course, is not the cocktail. Maybe invent your own thing—you never know what will mix with what. You’ve got to try it. Might I suggest this with gin? Or bourbon? Or maybe simply drink this straight, as its own cocktail. But if you were going to do that, it would be my preference to make it with a different water. Back to the drawing board.

1.26.23

Perrier – Carbonated Mineral Water

I feel like Perrier has been around forever—from back when mineral water got to be a big deal, but then became despised because it was associated with yuppies. This was, of course, before people developed the habit of paying money for toilet water in plastic bottles on a daily basis. I would have guessed it’s been around since the Seventies, but the bottle says: “A French Story Since 1863”—so I guess I was off by more than a century. That even pre-dates yuppies! Also, perhaps it’s not a mineral water at all, but a story! I guess I still associate Perrier with its rise in popularity, whenever that was, when I might have considered it a frivolous lifestyle choice. It’s probably time to get over opinions I formed when I was still spending Saturday nights bulls-eyeing womprats in my T-16. It’s kind of admirable they still have the same distinctive bottle shape, even if the shape is intensely off-putting, for some reason. Same label, same font, I think. I have no idea if this water is now in or out of fashion, or even who those fashions, if they do exit, entail. In the final estimation, though, it’s kind of remarkable this water comes all the way from France where it springs from the earth and is captured in designer containers. And remains relatively affordable. It’s also very good—it’s got a mineral flavor, but it’s subtle, and I find it delicious.

1.17.23

La Croix – Beach Plum

If you have the job at La Croix coming up with the names of flavored water, you must double up with some other duty—one would think—even with the ridiculous number of varieties available. Names like “Lemon” didn’t require much—but “Beach Plum” is clever, really, because you can’t imagine La Croix “Plum” sparkling water. Of course, it could be flavored after the Beach Plum—but that’s too regional and esoteric a fruit, isn’t it? Maybe not, because no one eats plums at the beach. Maybe it’s describing a “bathing beauty”—but isn’t that a peach? This confusion is why I find this name so clever. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really taste good—there’s something off about it. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t really taste like plums—or maybe it does, and that’s the problem. Anyway, it’s too floral to be appetizing and too normal to be interesting. (Some oddball out there surely loves it.) I don’t eat that many plums, actually—and maybe never a beach plum. I do eat a lot of prunes, which are dried plums, because they’re available year ’round at all the worst stores, and they’re pretty good. They also help you go… you know, number 2. Though, I couldn’t imagine them coming out with a La Croix Prune—maybe for that reason. “Beach” invokes good feelings with almost everyone, unless maybe you’re thinking Omaha Beach. “Plum,” even if you don’t like fresh fruit, also means very, very, very good. And then there’s Christmas pie—but I can never shed the image of that gross, little Little Jack Horner. A lot going on here—I’ve almost talked myself into thinking it’s really kind of good.

1.10.23

Ferrarelle – Sparking Natural Mineral Water

If I had to pick one water right now to be my regular, why not this one. It tastes delicious—it’s an Italian mineral water, and it’s subtle and fresh, and the natural carbonation is nice. My weakness is that I want to keep trying new things. And also, I’m attracted to the extremes—even though a more pronounced mineral flavor—that turns you on—might turn on you, eventually. There’s a distributor website that describes the origins of the water, near Naples, and the specifics of the mineral origins, and a murky photograph that could be anywhere. There’s also a funny paragraph about the convoluted, contested, origins of the name, and an oddly specific list of food that the water best accompanies—who comes up with this stuff!? The bottle is 750ml green glass with an old-fashioned looking red label with silver and white print. Also, a red, screw-on cap. The bottle is as attractive as any I’ve seen—and the water matches in deliciousness. I think I’ve found my regular water, I really have. I’d say I can end this experiment right now, except I know that there are still a lot out there to try. I may not remain faithful, but at some point I may see if the Ferrarelle will have me back.

1.3.23