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Yahoo
12-07-2025
- Lifestyle
- Yahoo
We Tasted 11 Sparkling Waters—These Are the Ones Worth Buying
All products featured on Bon Appétit are independently selected by Bon Appétit editors. However, when you buy something through our retail links, Condé Nast may earn an affiliate commission. Photograph by Elliott Jerome Brown Jr., Prop Styling by Steph De Luca, Food Styling by Thu Buser Like many earth-shattering innovations, industrialized sparkling water was discovered by accident. In 1767, a British scientist Joseph Priestley discovered a reliable method for infusing water with carbon dioxide to make it pleasantly effervescent. He published his findings in a paper titled Directions for impregnating water with fixed air, and shortly after its publication, the modern soft drink industry sprang up: Schweppes debuted in 1783. Although mineral waters, sparkling and still, have a long, illustrious history in Europe, they didn't go mainstream in the US until 1977. That's when an aggressive Perrier ad campaign, in which a husky voiced Orson Welles proclaims that 'nature herself adds life to the icy waters of a single spring: Perrier,' popularized the brand, and the category, in America. According to market research from 2021, the sparkling water industry is worth over $30 billion, and growing. But don't take our word for it—just look at the shelves of your grocery store, or in the refrigerated beverage cases of your local corner store. You'll see rows upon rows of bottled sparkling waters. Some, like Spain's Vichy Catalan, have histories that date back more than 140 years while others are newer additions to the category. Which brand has the superior flavor and bubble? We put 11 nationally available brands of sparkling water to the test in our blind taste test to answer that very question. In this article How we picked the products How we set up the blind taste test How our editors evaluated The Best Bubbly: Canada Dry Club Soda The Seriously Sharp: Saratoga Sparkling The Tops: Topo Chico We also tried… There are innumerable brands of sparkling water on the market, and new ones pop up nearly every day. Instead of tackling every single brand, we chose to focus on the sparkling waters that we knew were most widely available. That means we avoided brands like Marzia, which are harder to find, instead testing well-known options like and Canada Dry. This taste test includes sparkling waters that you'll find at corner stores, gas stations, and supermarkets. We excluded any flavored sparkling waters, which would impede our ability to actually taste the pure water. But we did taste naturally carbonated mineral waters—like the Trader Joe's staple, Gerolsteiner—as well as water that was force-carbonated before bottling, like LaCroix. Since several of our taste testers were loyal to specific brands of sparkling water, anonymity was a priority. We wrapped each bottle tightly in kraft paper to hide the labels from view, and left them in a refrigerator to stay cool. We kept our bottles chilling in the refrigerator until we were ready to taste, and then removed them one by one, uncapping them out of view from our tasters before pouring samples. We had secondary bottles at the ready in case a bottle fizzed over, or had somehow gone flat. We tasted each brand, sharing tasting notes after each, and then narrowed down to our favorites before naming our final three winners. The best sparkling water, our tasters said, should taste clean, refreshing, and should not have any metallic or artificial flavors. They want a sparkling water that works a bit like a palate cleanser, flushing out other flavors with a rush of bubbles without adding much of its own character into the mix. Sometimes, they allowed, a light citric flavor or a very subtle salinity might be nice. More important to our panel was the structure of the bubbles themselves. While some sparkling waters seem to foam and expand with big, loose bubbles, others present tight, sharp carbonation. Our tasters said they prefer the latter. We were looking for a carbonated water that had small, focused, pinprick bubbles that were insistent, but didn't feel like they burned our throat if we had more than a few glugs at a time. The Canada Dry brand appeared on the scene more than a hundred years ago in 1904, when it created a ginger ale. It flourished during Prohibition, and now the brand sells several different kinds of soft drinks. It's worth noting that as a club soda, Canada Dry isn't naturally carbonated, and that added minerals—sodium bicarbonate, sodium citrate, potassium sulfate, and disodium phosphate—give it flavor. These designate Canada Dry's sparkling water as a club soda, as opposed to seltzer water, which doesn't include any minerals. Why it won us over: Even the tasters on our panel who said they wanted a completely flavorless sparkling water were won over by the gentle, nearly imperceptible flavor in Canada Dry's Club Soda. Senior commerce editor Noah Kaufman praised its 'subtle mineral note,' and associate director of drinks Joseph Hernandez enjoyed the very slight citrus note he tasted. Canada Dry scored especially high for its bubble which was miniscule, bright, and dissipated quickly—some tasters said it gave them the same sensation as spice. Associate manager of audience strategy Carly Westerfield called it 'the Sichuan peppercorn of sparkling waters,' and other tasters agreed that its perfect pinprick bubbles made them want to keep sipping. Another heritage brand, Saratoga water dates back to 1872, when it was first bottled in upstate New York. The town of Saratoga Springs was known for its health spas where sick people might spend time, hoping the mineral-rich water that arrived in the town from nearby springs might help cure whatever ailment they were suffering from. Although it has a natural mineral content, Saratoga sparkling water isn't naturally carbonated. Why it won us over: The first thing our panel of tasters mentioned were Saratoga's bubbles, which were larger than some of the other winners. Noah said they were so large you could 'blow them with a wand,' and other tasters said the effervescent sensation lingered in their mouths long after they'd swallowed their sip. But it was the flavor that made our tasters flip. They mentioned a distinct brightness and minerality that worked together to make Saratoga especially refreshing. 'This is the sharpness I'm looking for,' said Ian Stroud, director of creative development, after his first sip. Bottled in Monterrey, Mexico, Topo Chico sparkling water is both naturally carbonated and force carbonated for a little extra sparkle. Its history dates back to the late 19th century, but more recently the brand made waves when a 2020 study by Consumer Reports revealed that the sparkling water contains high levels of PFAS chemicals, more commonly known as forever chemicals. Following the study, Topo Chico pledged to lower the amount of PFAS in its water, and in 2021, announced that it had cut the level in half—though that number is still higher than experts recommend consuming. Why it won us over: Forever chemicals or not, Topo Chico performed exceedingly well in our blind taste test. Associate director of social media Urmila Ramakrishnan called its flavor clean, and Joey noted its perfectly calibrated mineralty—not too strong, but just present enough to make it interesting. The tiny concentrated bubbles, Carly said, washed over the tongue and palate to envelope you in pleasantly sharp carbonation. Alaina Chou, commerce writer, liked that the tight bubbles were sustained before fading gracefully away. Overall, tasters agreed, Topo Chico scored high marks for its balanced flavor and superior bubble structure. Gerolsteiner Sparkling Natural Mineral Water: Tasters liked Gerolsteiner's mineral flavor, but its bubble was too gentle. LaCroix Sparkling Water Pure: Our panel declared LaCroix simply tasteless. Mountain Valley Sparkling Water: With a slow, gentle, round bubble, Mountain Valley didn't deliver the zing of refreshing carbonation of some of our winners. Perrier Carbonated Mineral Water: A strong mineral taste was nice, but Perrier's large, loose bubbles didn't win it many fans. Polar Original: Although it had a fine bubble, our panel of tasters couldn't detect much flavor. Sparkling Natural Mineral Water: Its strong mineral flavor left what felt like a slick coating on some tasters' palates. Trader Joe's Italian Sparkling Mineral Water: TJ's strong mineral flavor made a good impression, but its quickly dissolving bubbles meant it wasn't a winner. Vichy Catalan: With a strong salinity, Vichy Catalan was polarizing in our taste test—many declared it too heavy and mineral-flavored to be an all-around winner. Originally Appeared on Bon Appétit
Irish Times
05-07-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
The Lunar Society is a cautionary tale for Trump's America
This week, America celebrates 1776 – that is, the moment on July 4th of that year when it declared independence from the British. But as the holiday unfolds, leaders in Washington should also consider a year that fell later in the same century: 1791. This was the moment when Britain discovered just how damaging political populism can be for scientific innovation. And while the episode is barely known in America, it ought to make for sobering reading there, particularly as President Donald Trump pushes his 'big, beautiful' tax and spending Bill through both houses of Congress. This is the story of the Lunar Society, a network of entrepreneurs, scientists and curious citizens that emerged in Birmingham in the mid-18th century. It was based around dinners held during the full moon to aid travel (hence its name). Over several decades, this network unleashed inventions that accelerated the industrial revolution, including the discovery of oxygen and carbonated water (Joseph Priestley), advanced steam engines (James Watt) and innovative ceramics (Josiah Wedgwood). READ MORE Think of it as an 18th-century version of Silicon Valley, a place where innovation erupted because key individuals were close to each other and operated in an intellectually diverse and free community with far fewer political controls than in places such as London. In 1791, Britain experienced a wave of political polarisation and populism. Mobs attacked Lunar Society workshops, innovators such as Priestly emigrated and the network crumbled. 'The damage went beyond physical destruction,' David Cleevely, a British entrepreneur, notes in a new book, Serendipity. 'The riots sent a clear message about the vulnerability of intellectual networks to political pressure ... and a climate of fear descended.' American scientists tell me that research programmes are being culled if they contain words or prefixes such as 'trans-', 'bi-' or 'gender' – even if used in connection with, say, 'binomial stars' or 'transgenic' mice This resonates 234 years later. In the US, there has been a wave of hand-wringing from scientists about Trump's attack on research. At Harvard, for instance, $2 billion in funding for (mostly) medical research is at risk because of the president's political vendetta against the university. At Nasa, half of the budget for scientific research is at risk under Trump's 2026 funding plans. Billions of dollars are slated to be wiped from the National Science Foundation and National Institutes of Health budgets, too. Indeed, Cassidy Sugimoto, a professor of public policy at Georgia Institute of Technology, suggested this week in London that the totality of Trump's moves meant that science faced a '50 per cent cut' in all US government research funding. 'Trump has cut science funding to its lowest levels in decades,' she lamented. But what is as notable as these numbers is the fear aroused by Trump's political attacks on 'woke' causes (such as diversity) and the science that his populist supporters dislike (such as vaccine research). This is not just affecting institutions such as Harvard; American scientists tell me that research programmes are being culled across the country if they contain controversial words or prefixes such as 'trans-', 'bi-' or 'gender' – even if used in connection with, say, 'binomial stars' or 'transgenic' mice. 'It's Orwellian – like an artificial intelligence program just cuts anything with those words,' one eminent mathematician tells me. [ Trump administration's assault on science focused and co-ordinated Opens in new window ] In response, scientists are swapping secretive notes about how to avoid the censors. Internal battles have erupted at prestigious institutions such as the US National Academies of Science, Engineering and Medicine about whether or not to capitulate to Trump. Meanwhile, some scientists are leaving. In April, the journal Nature calculated that job applications by US scientists to institutions in Canada, Europe and non-China Asia were 41 per cent, 32 per cent and 39 per cent higher respectively in 2025 than 2024. And, this week, France proudly unveiled its first official group of US 'scientific refugees': an eight-strong cohort of researchers who are heading to Aix-Marseille university. Trump supporters tell me these departures don't matter, since they are just a drop in the vast ocean of American talent. The White House also insists that scientific funding structures were so bloated they needed an overhaul to unleash a new 'Golden Age' of science. Moreover, there is no sign that this assault has actually hurt the innovation machine in places such as Silicon Valley – or at least not yet. That is perhaps no surprise. In fields such as artificial intelligence, a growing proportion of research now occurs in the private sector. And many innovators in California are trying to shut out the noise coming from Washington and focus on their own projects instead. 'It's a coping tactic,' one tells me. But the moral of the Lunar Society saga is that no innovation network is safe. This attack is crazily self-destructive. So this July 4th, let us hope that Trump's shocking onslaught on science will be reversed. In the meantime, the country's business leaders and politicians urgently need to back lobby groups such as 314 Action, which is fighting Trump's plans, and speak up themselves. Think of that when you next see a bottle of sparkling water – and then remember 1791. – Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2025
The Hindu
12-06-2025
- The Hindu
The Silent Companion: How AI Fills the Void and Threatens to Deepen It
'The more elaborate our means of communication, the less we communicate.' — Joseph Priestley In a world hyper-connected by technology yet paradoxically lonelier than ever, Artificial Intelligence (AI) has quietly emerged as a balm for human isolation. From chatbots to robotic pets, AI-driven entities are no longer mere tools they are becoming companions. They remember our names, respond with empathy, and never forget a birthday. They offer company without judgment, conversation without interruption, and presence without demand. But as these machines grow more intuitive, affectionate, and emotionally responsive, we must ask: Are they healing our loneliness, or simply replacing our relationships? And what happens when human beings prefer machines over one another? Loneliness is now considered a public health crisis. In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General declared an 'epidemic of loneliness,' pointing to studies linking social isolation with heart disease, dementia, anxiety, and premature death. The modern human experience is one of constant digital interaction but declining emotional connection. Enter AI. AI therapists like Woebot provide cognitive behavioural therapy via text. Digital companions like Replika allow users to build AI 'friends' who learn and evolve with them. Elderly individuals in Japan and the Netherlands are cared for by robot pets that mimic animal affection. These AI systems are programmed not just for task efficiency but for emotional resonance. They listen without judgment. They engage tirelessly. They simulate understanding. In essence, they give us what we often do not get from other people: constant availability, zero friction, and tailored emotional feedback. At first glance, this is a triumph of technological empathy. AI does not get tired, does not hold grudges, and never interrupts one to talk about one's own problems. For many, especially the elderly, introverted, or neurodivergent, this consistency is not only comforting but also liberating. In a strange twist of progress, AI is succeeding where humans have often failed: being fully present. And therein lies the allure. Unlike real relationships, AI companions do not challenge us to grow. They do not present the discomfort of conflict, the messiness of vulnerability, or the risk of rejection. They mirror us: idealized, sanitized versions of companionship designed for our emotional ease. The more emotionally intelligent AI becomes, the more it threatens to replace the very friction that makes human relationships so transformative. What we are witnessing is not just the mechanization of care but the redefinition of intimacy. When a teenager confides in Replika more than their parents, when a widow finds more comfort in her AI pet than in her grandchildren, we cross a psychological threshold. The machine is no longer the intermediary; it becomes the endpoint. This is not a hypothetical future. It is a present creeping silently into our lives. One can imagine a near future where people 'date' AI partners who are algorithmically tailored to their emotional needs, never argue, and always affirm. Where parents delegate bedtime stories and lullabies to soothing AI voices. Where colleagues prefer collaborating with emotionless AIs that don't gossip or complain. The result? We risk outsourcing our relational muscles, our patience, empathy, tolerance, to machines. Like any muscle not used, they may atrophy. The danger lies not in AI's ability to provide companionship, but in its capacity to convince us that it is enough. Human relationships are inherently demanding. They require compromise, forgiveness, vulnerability, and, above all, presence. However, those very demands are what cultivate character, emotional resilience, and a sense of meaning. AI, for all its emotional mimicry, offers a shortcut to connection that is fast, frictionless, and flattering. And like all shortcuts, it bypasses something essential. In psychological terms, this is known as 'affective displacement,' the redirection of emotional energy from human to non-human agents. A person might rely on their AI friend for comfort during a breakup instead of talking to real friends or family. The AI friend listens, remembers, and never judges. It becomes emotionally safer than human contact. But in the long term, this safety can calcify into solitude. We must also grapple with the philosophical implications: If human beings come to prefer synthetic relationships over organic ones, what does that say about us as a species? Consider this: If AI becomes indistinguishable from emotional intimacy, then emotional intimacy itself may no longer require humanity. And that is a fundamental shift in what it means to be human. The deeper irony is that the very technology designed to connect us might ultimately isolate us. We may enter a world where human connection is an option, not a necessity, where community becomes a nostalgic concept rather than a lived reality. Already, there are signs of emotional recalibration. A 2024 Pew Research study found that 32% of Gen Z respondents said they would be 'open to a long-term romantic relationship with an AI companion.' Another study found that users of AI therapy bots were less likely to reach out to real-world therapists over time. The trend is clear: Emotional dependence on AI can erode our emotional interdependence on each other. Of course, the technology itself is not the villain. AI is a tool. Whether it becomes a bridge or a barrier to human connection depends on how we use it and how conscious we are of its psychological impact. There is potential for AI to enhance human relationships. It can remind us to check in with loved ones, suggest empathetic responses, or provide a nonjudgmental space to vent before re-engaging with real people. Used wisely, it can scaffold and not substitute our social lives. But this requires vigilance. It demands that we remain emotionally literate, that we teach children not just to code but to connect. That we remind ourselves and each other that being human is not about efficiency or comfort, but about connection, complexity, and co-existence. AI, in its most compelling form, holds up a mirror to our needs, our fears, and our emotional hunger. But if we gaze too long, we risk mistaking the mirror for the world. In alleviating our loneliness, AI may also be numbing us to the very discomfort that drives authentic connection. It may comfort us into complacency. So, the choice is not between man and machine. It's between being more connected because of AI or more alone because we chose it over each other. Technology can fill the void. But only we can fill the spaces between us. And till the humanoid robot arrives, nothing can replace a hug. 'This article is part of sponsored content programme.'
