When I was kid, my mom always served Perrier with dinner. This was a thing worldly surburban moms did back in the '80s, when Perrier still came exclusively in glass bottles and tasted EXOTIC to the feeble American palate. Mom would pour Perrier in wine glasses for us at dinner, alongside a glass of milk that I usually opted for instead. I didn’t want any of this frou-frou European s—t. I didn’t want minerals in my water. It tasted scary to me.
Fast forward 35 years later. I no longer drink milk. And I no longer drink flat water, because it bores me. What I drink instead is seltzer. I’m so horny for seltzer that my wife has, on many occasions, expressed CONCERN over my intake, as if I’m drinking straight floor polish. Keep in mind this isn’t hard seltzer we’re talking about here. I don’t even drink alcohol at all anymore. This is just plain old seltzer. So I’m always like, “Lady, if this is my worst vice, then you married Mitt goddamn Romney.”
And it might BE my worst vice. That’s how unrelentingly wholesome I am.
Despite my childhood reticence, I am now a full blown seltzer addict. I’ll never quit. No one can make me. All professional writers on Twitter are already predisposed to buying seltzer by the hogshead, and I’m no different. When the pandemic first hit, one of my first purchases wasn’t a mask. It was a SodaStream. And when the CO2 canisters on that SodaStream got kicked, I exchanged them at a hardware store that turned out to have a COVID breakout among half its staff that exact same week.
Do I have any regrets about risking my life to continue my seltzer habit? Hell no. I’m still alive, ain’t I? WORTH IT. And when we escaped to a beach house for vacation in summer of 2020 and ran out of seltzer there, I ordered two cases from Walmart and had them delivered, next day, so that we’d never run out. I drink so much seltzer that my mom, the original Perrier fiend, doesn’t understand it. She’ll only drink Perrier and San Pellegrino. Grocery store seltzer is bizarre trash to her. She’ll only drink real mineral water excavated from some wellspring tapped by the descendants of Ponce de Leon. Me, I’ll take any water shot through with an aggressive amount of fizz.
Why do I love this crap so much? I’m glad I just pretended you asked. First of all, I love to drink anything out of a can. Secondly, I can’t drink any OTHER carbonated drink these days. Alcohol is out. Soda will give me liver failure. Diet soda will give me kidney stones the size of a bear. This is the only place where I can get my bubbles off without any guilt. When my brother told me that seltzer might actually be bad for you, I ignored him and possibly muttered "oh piss off" when he left the room. You’re not gonna convince me this is a slippery slope to a meth habit. It’s seltzer. It’s a necessary evil that isn’t even evil.
I have friends online who rate and review different seltzer brands, without being paid or asked to. Do I laugh at these friends? Reader, I do not. Instead, I consume their postings voraciously, looking for any edges I might have missed in my seltzer game. Is there a dark horse pamplemousse flavor that I may have missed? Is Polar REALLY a game-changer? Where do my friends fall on strawberry seltzer, which I find oddly disturbing in flavor? I eagerly consume all seltzer content, and will likely re-read this post of mine many times over once it’s gone up. When I see a new flavor of seltzer at the store, I immediately spring for it unless it’s some disturbing variety like vanilla. And when a friend of mine vouched for Spindrift, I finally ponied up the extra two bucks for an eight pack and instantly, all other seltzers became toilet runoff to me.
In fact, I’m enjoying a cool and refreshing cucumber Spindrift right now, as I’m writing this post. [Cracks open the can and stares into the camera] AHHHHHHH!!! It may be 58,000 degrees outside, but inside my body it’s a verdant oasis teeming with pools of effervescent goodness. Two single file lines of woodland nymphs fan my inner organs with giant flower petals while fluffy rabbits cavort gaily ‘round my tummy. I am not in paradise. Rather, paradise is now in ME.
Spindrift didn’t pay me to write this, because they didn’t have to. The world’s seltzer makers already know that I am their pawn, and that I’m ready for whatever innovations they bring to the table in the future. More widespread passion fruit seltzer options? Yes, I’ll take those. A seltzer soda gun I can install in my home? F—K YEAH GIMME. Seltzer-flavored ice cream? Absolutely. Pollute my tongue with all of that. I want all of the seltzer, so that I can feel like a fancy man. Put it in a champagne flute and I’ll raise a toast to my mom. The severe carbonation float will let everyone know I’m the prince of all seltzer forevermore.
More Drew Magary
"drink" - Google News
July 02, 2021 at 06:03PM
https://ift.tt/2Tuo5Vl
I don't drink regular water anymore. This is what I imbibe instead. - SF Gate
"drink" - Google News
https://ift.tt/2STbaKe
https://ift.tt/2VWmZ3q
Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "I don't drink regular water anymore. This is what I imbibe instead. - SF Gate"
Post a Comment