ANGELO ROEFARO loves nothing. He wants you to love nothing, too. A small, trim man with a neat beard, he manned his stall at the recent Brooklyn SeltzerFest with the manic energy of a caffeinated terrier, thrusting little paper cups at passers-by. “See? You finally taste nothing!” Mr Roefaro boasts that he spent “six months researching bubbles”. The result is clean-tasting and only lightly fizzy.
Some may see the launch of a new unflavoured seltzer—Seltzie, with the slogan, “only one flavour: none”—as a sign of a bubble in the sparkling-water business. At the stalls on either side, consumers could sample tangerine-ginger, passionfruit, lime-mint, blackberry-cucumber and raspberry, all produced by Topo Chico, a popular Mexican brand owned by Coca-Cola.
A rising tide is lifting all fizzy waters. With alcohol consumption declining, sparkling water is more popular than ever. Sales of it in America were around $6.4bn in 2025, up 70% from 2019, according to Mintel, a research firm.
Joseph Priestley, an English chemist, is credited with creating artificially sparkling water in 1767 by infusing it with carbon dioxide. Some 15 years later Johann Schweppe, a Swiss scientist whose name in possessive form should be familiar to any enthusiast, started a company to produce it at scale. Soda fountains, which make carbonated drinks on site, spread in the 19th century. In America sparkling water proved especially popular among Jewish immigrants, perhaps because it was the cleanest water available on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. It was known as “seltzer”, after a German town famous for its sparkling water. (Today many use sparkling water and seltzer interchangeably.)
Consumers are spoiled for choice. For European sophisticates (or wannabes), there are the delicate bubbles of Badoit or San Pellegrino. Georgians rave about the putative healing properties of Borjomi, a naturally sparkling water with a sulphurous scent and heavy mineral flavour that detractors compare to fizzy saliva.
So buoyant is demand for sparkling water that even supermarket chains have their own lines of the flavoured sort. People trying to cut back on fizzy drinks can choose lightly fruity Spindrift or La Croix. Gourmets and Texans—not always separate categories—love the large, sharp bubbles and clean taste of Topo Chico, which has recently experienced a shortage. (As one T-shirt at the festival boasted, “Good seltzer should hurt.” You will understand if you have ever guzzled one too quickly.)
So which is the best? Some people prefer a Badoitesque whisper of bubbles, but that seems an experiential waste. Topo Chico, with its lack of mineral aftertaste and bubbles that pack a punch, pairs perfectly with spicy food, cuts through richness and settles the stomach. Consumers should cheer. And then burp. ■