The Kurmudgeon Guide to Mineral Water
When I was growing up in Wading River, Long Island, no one in my household drank mineral water. My parents’ friends drank the odd, bitter “fancy” water, either San Pellegrino or Perrier, for what I assumed was the purpose of putting on airs.
Now I live in Ridgewood, Queens, a mineral water mecca thanks to its trove of immigrant-owned groceries. Exposed to “fancy” waters from around the globe, I’ve grown to love the stuff. The romantic idea that waters strongly differ in taste depending on the geology of their underground aquifers appeals to me greatly. From the comfort of my living room, I can taste sleeping volcanoes, or the foundations of stony Caucasian mountains.
America, you should drink more mineral water.
Natural spring photograph by Michael Warren via iStock
“America, you should drink more mineral water.”
The 'purified' Aquafinas and Dasanis of the world are functionally repackaged tap water. But spring water, and mineral water in particular, is actually very interesting. The taxonomy is fairly arbitrary; all water cycles through a spring at some point, and all drinking water will have some particulate matter in it.
Mineral water, as it's understood in the U.S., generally means spring water with noticeable mineral content, sold more or less the way it came out of the ground, with the exception of some added gas for carbonation. (It can actually come out of the spring carbonated naturally, but most carbonation is artificial.)
I’ll share my favorite mineral water brands below, but first, some advice:
Choose glass bottles over plastic. I have no real idea why this matters, but it does.
Any time you’re making a drink that calls for fizzy water, like a long drink or a spritz, nice mineral water will taste a thousand times better than plain soda water.
Always take the health-related claims surrounding mineral water, including the anecdotes in this article, with a big grain of salt (or a gram of bicarbonate, as it were).
After much passionate investigation, here are my favorite mineral waters.
“Getting your emergency hydration from this bitter bottle will make you feel more like a connoisseur and less like an overgrown baby. ”
1. Borjomi
A water I love so much I occasionally schlep home entire cases, this Georgian specialty seems broadly popular across the former Soviet Union and neighboring states. By American normie standards, it’s the weirdest, most aggressively mineral water I’ve come across. Its medicinal, slightly fishy aroma is liable to alienate all but the steeliest mineral maniacs. The flavor is crisp, pleasantly bitter, and slightly chalky; the texture is mildly viscous.
Borjomi is the best hangover cure/preventative I’ve ever found, just ahead of light cardio and tripe soup. Due to its high sodium, magnesium, and bicarbonate levels, I consider it nature’s Pedialyte. At any rate, getting your emergency hydration from this bitter bottle will make you feel more like a connoisseur and less like an overgrown baby.
This assertive water is not just for the treatment of misery. It’s equally good as part of a classy natural wine dinner or used as a chaser for fatback-infused vodka. I’d be remiss not to mention that Chambers, the esteemed Tribeca restaurant helmed in part by Master Sommelier Pascaline Lepeltier, once gave Borjomi a place on their impressive beverage list. Borjomi is not on the menu at Chambers these days, though you still might find it in a cocktail or two, but selling my favorite weird-ass Georgian mineral water was one of the many little touches that helps make Chambers my favorite restaurant in NYC. That and the sweetbreads.
Is it really a spring without a miraculous origin story? Borjomi’s source was supposedly discovered by a huntsman who watched the water heal a wounded deer. (Screengrab from Borjomi’s trippy website)
2. Radenska
Radenska is another favorite of mine, a Slovenian water that’s a bit less salty and funky than Borjomi while still having a pronounced bitter flavor. I find it’s great for settling an upset stomach due to its bicarbonate content. It pairs well with salty and acidic foods. Reach for it with typical Balkan fare like grilled cevapi, peppers, and brined cheese.
3. Borsec
A product of Romania, Borsec has a clean, classy kind of bitterness and a tiny bit of acidity. High in calcium and magnesium, I’ve found it to be restorative when I’m sick and trying to keep my fluid intake up. It comes in a non-carbonated version which, for whatever reason, has a much lower mineral content, so make sure you go for the bubbly kind if you want the full experience.
The top three are Kurmudgeon’s top three.
4. Gerolsteiner
Probably my favorite among the mainstream Western European brands, Gerolsteiner is one of those bottles you can find in upscale groceries or health food stores anywhere in the U.S. I once won a case of it in an Instagram raffle, which made me feel like the only person in America following their U.S. account. It’s reliably delicious and goes well with a meal. I have a hunch it’s good for digestion, too, which is not surprising coming from Germany, the same country that gave us Underberg.
6. Güitig
Pleasantly chalky and creamy mineral water from Ecuador. It makes me feel like an Andean tuber growing in fertile mountain valley soil. Anecdotally, chugging a bottle of this after a heavy drinking session is very helpful for sobering up quickly.
“It makes me feel like an Andean tuber growing in fertile mountain valley soil. ”
7. Uludağ
A Turkish water sold in adorable little green bottles in the Balkan stores and cafes near me. Uludağ has an odd, distinctive note somewhere between popcorn, cardboard, and balsa wood.
8. Topo Chico
Pretty good! Low-ish mineral content but it tastes good, so I’m not complaining.
9. Peñafiel
A Mexican brand I tried for the first time recently. Despite the visual branding, which reminds me of toothpaste or soap, the actual flavor is citrusy and quite nice. A great option for cocktails.
