Here's something that's been bugging me: Ontario sits on one-fifth of the world's freshwater. One-fifth. The Great Lakes alone contain enough water to flood the entire continental United States to a depth of nearly five metres. And yet, when I'm at a nice restaurant, I'm paying $12 for sparkling water shipped from the Italian Alps.
Why does San Pellegrino feel fancier than water from, say, Muskoka? Is it actually better? Or have we just been conditioned by decades of advertising and restaurant placements to think European equals premium?
I ran a study with 6 Canadian consumers to find out what's actually driving these perceptions, and more importantly, what it would take to make them switch to a local alternative.
The Participants
I recruited 6 personas from across Canada through Ditto. Mostly Ontario (Barrie, Oshawa, Kingston, Ottawa) with a couple from BC (Langley, Kelowna). Ages ranged from 29 to 54, incomes from under $25k to over $200k. A pretty broad mix of premium beverage consumers who have experience with both imported European sparkling water and local alternatives.
What united them: they've all ordered the fancy imported water at restaurants. They've all done the mental calculation of whether it's worth it. And they've all formed opinions about what separates a premium sparkling water from the generic stuff.
Italian vs. Ontario: What Actually Feels Premium?
First question: be honest, when you see sparkling water from Italy versus Ontario on a menu or shelf, which feels more premium and why?
The answer was unanimous: Italy wins. But here's what's interesting, it's not about the water itself. Nobody claimed Italian water tastes fundamentally different from what we could source locally. The premium perception comes from something else entirely.
It's about stacked ritual cues:
Heavy glass bottle with a crown cap you need to pop. The weight in your hand, the satisfying sound of opening, the way it sits on the table. These are deliberate design choices that signal quality.
Fine, tight bubbles with a mineral edge. Not the aggressive fizz of cheap soda water, but refined carbonation that feels intentional. The mouthfeel matters enormously.
Restaurant tableside service - seeing it poured at nice dinners creates lasting associations. Every time you've seen San Pellegrino, it's been in a context of celebration or fine dining.
One participant nailed it perfectly: "Italian Alps" functions as learned prestige, not taste superiority. We've been conditioned by decades of restaurant experiences and advertising. The water could come from anywhere, but the associations are specifically Italian because that's where the marketing dollars went.
Key insight: Premium perception is built through ritual packaging, mouthfeel specs, and social proof. A Canadian brand could replicate all of this. The ingredients aren't proprietary.
Does Sustainability Actually Matter?
Second question: imagine a brand told you they collect bottles, sanitize them, and refill them with 99% of packaging reused. Does that actually matter when choosing what to buy?
The response was more complicated than I expected.
Yes, sustainability matters. Consumers say they care. But vague claims like "99% reused" or "carbon neutral" actually erode trust rather than build it. These participants have been burned before by greenwashing. They've seen companies make bold environmental claims that turned out to be meaningless. As a result, they've developed a skepticism reflex.
What they actually wanted to see:
Audited return rates - not "up to 99%" but actual verified numbers
Average reuses per bottle - concrete lifecycle data
Wash energy consumption - specifics about the cleaning process
Transport kilometers - how far does the bottle travel in its lifecycle
One participant summarized the ideal perfectly: "Drop empties where you shop, instant deposit return, no apps." The emphasis on convenience came through consistently across all six participants.
Most would accept 10-25% price premiums and refundable deposits, if returns align with existing routines. That means grocery stores, LCBO, Beer Store. Places they're already going. Not some special app or dedicated drop-off location.
Key insight: Verified, low-friction circularity influences choice. Vague eco-claims backfire. Show your homework or don't mention sustainability at all.
When Do People Actually Drink Sparkling Water?
Third question: when do you reach for sparkling water instead of still water, pop, or beer?
The pattern was clear: sparkling water is a ritualized treat that serves specific functions in people's lives. Understanding these occasions is crucial for any brand trying to position in this space.
Replaces alcohol or sugary drinks - the "I'm not drinking tonight" option that still feels like something
Cuts through rich or spicy food - palate cleanser at dinner parties or restaurant meals
Works for hosting - something nicer than tap water for guests without alcohol commitment
Midday pick-me-up - more interesting than plain water, no caffeine crash
Light mixer - with a splash of citrus or in cocktails
Key insight: Sparkling water is positioned as a substitute and an upgrade, not a necessity. It's about what it replaces rather than what it is.
The Cause Marketing Trap
One thing that came up unprompted from multiple participants: founder grief narratives ("I started this company after losing my mother to cancer") feel manipulative unless paired with specifics.
Participants wanted:
Exact cents-per-bottle donations - not "a portion of proceeds" but actual numbers
Named beneficiaries - which specific organizations receive the funds
Audited totals - cumulative donation amounts that can be verified
One participant put it bluntly: "Lead with product quality. Keep philanthropy quiet and quantified." The emotional story without the receipts feels like exploitation.
A Note on Indigenous Governance
One participant, First Nations from Langley BC, raised something important that deserves its own section: for brands sourcing Canadian water, Indigenous consent and benefit-sharing aren't nice-to-haves. They're non-negotiables.
This means named agreements, explicit community partnerships, transparent benefit structures. Without these elements, "local" and "sustainable" claims ring hollow for a meaningful segment of consumers. You can't claim to be a responsible Canadian brand while ignoring the land acknowledgment conversation.
What This Means for Canadian Sparkling Water
The takeaway is actually encouraging for local brands. Premium perception isn't locked to geography. It's not like Italian water has some magical property. The perception is built through deliberate choices that any brand can make:
Ritual-grade packaging - heavy glass, crown caps, restrained design that signals quality
Consistent, tight carbonation - publish your mineral and CO2 specs, let people compare
Restaurant placements - tableside pours build the social proof that creates lasting associations
Verified circularity - audited return rates, convenient deposits that fit existing routines
Quiet philanthropy - specific amounts to named organizations, not emotional manipulation
Indigenous partnerships - named agreements, real benefit-sharing, genuine community involvement
The Italian imports have a head start on conditioning, but they're shipping water across an ocean. A well-executed Ontario brand could compete on quality and sustainability, if they get the details right. The premium perception puzzle isn't unsolvable. It just requires attention to the specific cues that consumers actually respond to.
Want to test your own beverage positioning with Canadian consumers? Ditto lets you run studies like this in hours, not weeks. Book a demo at askditto.io.
What the Research Revealed
We asked real consumers to share their thoughts. Here's what they told us:
When do you actually reach for sparkling water instead of still water, pop, or beer? Is it a health thing, a treat, a cocktail mixer, something you order at restaurants to feel fancy? And if a brand t
Olivier Nguyen, 29, Product Manager, Kelowna, BC, Canada:
Short answer: I reach for bubbles when I want the ritual without alcohol or the cut-through richness effect. Pop is rare for me, beer is social. Water is default. When I pick sparkling:
Dinner, weeknights: I want occasion without booze. Heavy glass, crown cap, nice hiss. With pho or salmon, it cleans the palate.
Restaurants: splitting a 750 ml with friends feels tidy and keeps me sharp. Yes, a bit fancy. I’m fine with that.
Afternoon slump: 3 p.m., Slack pings, I want fizz but not sugar. SodaStream or a chilled bottle.
Post-swim: cold bubbles hit better than still. Especially today at -1 and slushy.
Light mixer: squeeze of citrus, maybe a dash of bitters. If I’m avoiding beer during the Canucks game, this does the job.
Authentic if: specific per-bottle amount, named beneficiary, yearly totals, and receipts. Built-in, every day, not just October. Product stands on its own. Quiet label note, details on a page. Ideally third-party oversight. No drama, just clarity.
Manipulative if: grayscale portrait of mom, “1% of profits*” with an asterisk, vague totals, or a price premium with no breakdown. Cause-of-the-month drops. Using grief to distract from mid product or messy supply chain. Data grabs to “verify donations.” Pas sérieux.
Net: I buy on taste, ritual, and logistics first. A credible, measured give-back can tip me if it’s real and boring-in-a-good-way. If it smells like emotional marketing, I tune it out and grab whatever has tighter bubbles and is actually cold in Kelowna. C’est ça.
Hannah Clarke, 36, Community Volunteer, Oshawa, ON, Canada:
Here is when I actually reach for sparkling water:
Treat without sugar or alcohol - Friday night takeout, I pour it in a real glass with lemon or mint and it scratches the fancy itch without the hangover I do not get because I do not drink anyway.
With heavy or spicy food - it cuts through and resets my mouth better than flat water.
After a hike or soccer - cold can from the fridge feels crisp and clean.
When hosting - I keep a couple nice glass bottles for guests so there is an easy halal-friendly option that still feels special.
Restaurants - sometimes, yes, it is my little fancy order. I am not into pop and I do not drink beer, so bubbles hit the spot.
Plain numbers - how much per bottle, total to date, and any cap. No “portion of proceeds” mush.
Real partner named - which cancer charity, what programs, and ideally Canadian and trackable.
Consistency - same cause over time, quiet updates, not a one-month pink label blitz.
No price games - do not jack the price and call the difference a donation.
If the bubbles are good and those details are clear, I am more likely to try it. If it is a soft-focus photo and vague promises, I roll my eyes and buy the simple Canadian can. The story should support the product, not carry it.
Jennifer Reid, 49, Content Strategist, Kingston, ON, Canada:
Sparkling is my weeknight stand-in for booze and my palate reset. I reach for it when I want the ritual without the fog - cold glass, tight bubbles, a squeeze of citrus - especially with spicy food or rich dinners. Mid-afternoon at the desk, it breaks the water monotony and keeps me from wandering to the bodega for pop. At restaurants, I order it when the table is drinking and I am not - not to feel fancy, to keep pace without adding alcohol. As a mixer, I use it with amaros or vermouth for low-alc spritzes, or over a shrub. Beer is for specific occasions; sparkling slots into the everyday with fewer consequences and less clutter in the fridge. On the founder-lost-his-mother origin story: that is grief, not a product spec. If it is the headline, it feels manipulative. If it shows up as footnote context with receipts, fine. I donate to cancer orgs directly; I do not need a surcharge on water to outsource my ethics. What reads as authentic vs emotional marketing:
Specifics over sentiment: exactly what percent, of what base, for how long, to which registered charity. No “portion of proceeds,” no “up to.”
Audited reporting: annual totals, independent verification, and a boring PDF. If you can instrument carbonation to the gram, you can instrument donations.
Proportionality: more money to the cause than to the ad campaign about the cause. If the story props up a price premium, the product better be objectively great.
Continuity: standing commitment built into the business model, not a one-month tragedy splash.
Restraint: do not package a parent’s death as brand theatre. Lead with the water - taste, bubbles, reuse system - let the philanthropy be table stakes.
Net: I buy the bubbles, not the backstory. If the water is good and the numbers add up, I am in. If it leans on tears to sell me carbonation, hard pass.
Isabelle Roy, 54, Emergency Management Director, Barrie, ON, Canada:
Here’s what matters: I reach for sparkling when I want bite without booze or sugar. Not to feel fancy, to feel awake. When I actually pick sparkling:
Weeknights with dinner when I’m skipping beer. Fish, spicy, tomato dishes. Glass bottle, proper glass.
Mid-afternoon reset on a grey day like today. Cuts the fog, no calories.
After a walk or kettlebells. Cold, tight bubbles beat flat tap.
Hosting or restaurants when I want something adult that isn’t pop. If they pour tableside, even better.
Driving or on the GO. Same ritual, zero alcohol.
Exact percentage of revenue, not profit, donated. Multi-year, not launch-month.
Audited reports and the registered charity name. No vanity foundation.
No price premium disguised as virtue. Same or lower total cost than imports.
Operational alignment: refillable glass with real return rates, local wash-fill loop, published LCA.
Consistent tone: plain language, no violins, product quality leads, story is a footnote.
Bottom line: make excellent water in glass with tight bubbles and real minerality, prove the loop, publish the numbers. Earn trust first. The story can sit quietly on the back label.
Imagine a sparkling water brand told you: We collect our glass bottles back, sanitize them, and refill them. 99% of our packaging is reused. Does that actually matter to you when choosing what to buy,
Jennifer Reid, 49, Content Strategist, Kingston, ON, Canada:
It matters to me if the reuse loop is real and low-friction; otherwise it’s a pretty sentence on a label. “99% reused” makes me ask, what’s the denominator? How many trips per bottle, what’s the breakage, how far to the wash plant, and what’s that remaining 1% - caps, labels, pallet wrap? If I can buy it and return it at the same place I shop - No Frills or The Beer Store style - then yes, that claim influences my cart. If it’s mail-back boxes and QR-code homework, I’m not becoming your warehouse, especially in January slush when I’m already hauling groceries and cat litter.
Trust: deposit shown on the receipt, bottles designed for multiple refills with a stated trip count, clear return points, and a boring PDF with audited numbers - refill rate, transport distance, wash energy - not pastel infographics.
Eye roll: “carbon neutral” via offsets, “ocean-bound plastic,” “plant a tree per case,” and vague “eco-friendly” anything. That’s decoration, not accountability.
Would I pay more? A bit. I’ll swallow the deposit and a modest premium if the swap is as easy as empties - say, a sturdy crate I can bring back on my regular shop. I won’t pay restaurant-water pricing for homework. If the system’s clunky or pricey, I’ll buy the decent Ontario cans and get on with my day.
Olivier Nguyen, 29, Product Manager, Kelowna, BC, Canada:
Short answer: it matters if the reuse loop is real and low-friction. If I can buy it cold, drop the empties where I shop, and get my deposit back without drama, I care. If I have to hoard glass in my garage and drive across town, it’s just nice copy. What I trust:
Clear deposit on the receipt and instant refund on return. Show the network, with actual Kelowna locations.
Visible reuse: scuffed bottles, a stated average reuses-per-bottle, and a simple explainer on washing temps and breakage.
Third-party numbers with the method in plain English. A short LCA summary on your site beats vague icons.
Place specifics: where the spring is, mineral analysis, where you wash-refill. Names, not vibes.
“99% reused packaging” with no denominator. Is that just pallets and crates? Over what period?
Carbon neutral via offsets. Plant-a-tree math doesn’t make a heavy bottle vanish.
“Ocean-bound plastic” credits slapped on a glass product. Irrelevant.
Compostable plastic bottles that only break down in a facility we do not have. Pas sérieux.
“Powered by renewables” with no site, no hours, no context. RECs without detail are fluff.
Price-wise: I’ll pay 10-20% more than single-use for a tight refill system, plus a sane deposit up to a buck. Beyond that, I default to SodaStream at home, and for a dinner flex I might still grab the Italian if your bottle is pricier but not more special. If I have to chase a truck or download an app to return glass, hard no. Net: make it convenient in Kelowna, show me the loop, keep the ritual nice. Do that and I’m in. Otherwise it’s just slushy-day marketing. C’est ça.
Tanya Paul, 49, Administrative Assistant, Langley, BC, Canada:
If that 99% reuse is real and local, it matters to me a lot. Reuse beats “infinite recycling” fairy tales, and a sturdy glass bottle with a proper pop does make it feel like an occasion. But I’m cranky about greenwashing today - rain, crime headlines, and tired of pretty claims - so I want receipts, not poetry. What I trust:
Audited return rates - who verifies the 99% and over what time period.
Bottle lifespan - average refills before retirement, breakage rate, and what happens to retired glass.
Local wash loop - where the plant is, energy source, water use and recapture, chemicals used.
Freight math - distance from source to wash to shelf. Less trucking, more believable.
Watershed stewardship - source named, monitoring posted, and Indigenous consent with real benefit sharing.
“Eco-friendly” with no numbers.
Plastic neutral or tree-planting offsets as a get-out-of-jail-free card.
“100% recyclable” when collection and reprocessing rates are low in practice.
Compostable plastic that only breaks down in a facility we don’t have.
“Carbon neutral shipping” without the project list and verification.
Would I pay more for refillable glass? Yes, within reason. I’ll pay a small premium for a closed-loop system I can return where I already go - depot, grocery, even breweries - and I’m fine with a deposit as long as I get it back easily. I’m not paying silly boutique pricing or four bucks for a half-litre. Day to day I’m happy with tap and a squeeze of lemon; the refill bottle is for the table when friends are over. If you want my money, make it simple and show your math. Where are the return drop points in Langley, how many turns does a bottle get, and who audits the 99%? If those answers are solid, I’ll choose you over imported glass without blinking.
Hannah Clarke, 36, Community Volunteer, Oshawa, ON, Canada:
Short answer: it matters to me if it is real and easy. If they truly collect, sanitize, and refill, and I can return bottles where I already shop, that would tip me toward them. 99% reused sounds great, but I need simple proof, not a glossy line on a label. What I actually trust:
Deposit and return spots I already use - grocery, LCBO-style depots, cafés. No special app, no QR circus.
Show your math - average reuses per bottle, breakage rate, and where it is washed and refilled. Plain numbers.
Distance - bottled and reused in Ontario, not trucked halfway across the country.
Receipts I can see - a short page with photos of the wash line, and a simple third-party check. Not a vibes blog.
Leaf icons, “eco-friendly,” and zero numbers.
“Carbon neutral” because of offsets. Same with “plastic neutral” and “ocean-bound” fluff.
“We plant a tree per case” with no partner named or count tracked.
Would I pay more? A bit. I would pay, say, 25 to 50 cents more per bottle plus a refundable deposit, if returns are on my normal errands and the bottle feels sturdy and nice to pour. I will not pay double, and I will not drive across Oshawa in the rain to drop off empties. On drizzly days like today I want to hand them back at No Frills and be done. If they nail the refill system and keep the look clean and calm, I would happily pick that over imports most weeks. If it turns into homework or hype, I go back to the simple Canadian cans.
Be honest: when you see sparkling water from Italy (like San Pellegrino) versus sparkling water from Ontario, which feels more premium to you and why? Is there something about "imported from the Itali
Olivier Nguyen, 29, Product Manager, Kelowna, BC, Canada:
Short answer: the Italian bottle feels more premium to me. Not because it’s mystical Alpine dew - because the ritual is tighter. - Heavy green glass, crown cap, little hiss, fine bubbles. It signals occasion. I buy it for dinner with friends. At home alone, I use a SodaStream and move on. C’est ça. - The label leans Old World and restaurant-coded. You see it tableside, so your brain tags it as special. Classic price anchoring. Imported from the Italian Alps is 70% theater, 30% minerality/carbonation profile. Still works on me, ben là. What it would take for a Canadian sparkling to feel as special:
Glass only with weight and a proper crown cap. 330 ml and 750 ml formats.
Consistent, tight carbonation and a clear mineral analysis on the label. Not “pure Canadian” fluff - show the numbers.
Place story with specificity: named spring, geology, maybe a tiny map. No maple-leaf clip art.
Quiet design: restrained typography, bilingual done cleanly, no loud colours.
Seen in good restaurants and hotels so the social proof kicks in.
Premium price, not cheap. Slightly under the European stuff, but not “budget.”
Reuse or deposit program for the glass. Local logistics that don’t feel wasteful.
Cold, crisp availability out here in BC, not just downtown Toronto. If I can’t find it at my Kelowna spots, it’s a non-starter.
Today it’s -1 and slushy, and even then that heavy glass bottle next to a steaming bowl of pho just feels right. So yeah, the Alps line is marketing, but the experience is real - and absolutely beatable if a Canadian brand nails those signals.
Isabelle Roy, 54, Emergency Management Director, Barrie, ON, Canada:
Here’s what I see: Italian sparkling feels more premium because of three cues that stack - consistent mineral profile, fine carbonation in glass, and heritage positioning at restaurants. The “Italian Alps” line is mostly theatre, but the minerality isn’t fake. Many Ontario waters taste softer and a bit flat by comparison, so the imports read as cleaner, saltier, more structured. I care about taste first; the rest is packaging and placement. Also, glass matters. Plastic kills the vibe and the flavour. What would make a Canadian sparkling feel as special as the imports for me:
Publish the mineral profile and keep it consistent. I want a noticeable, repeatable minerality, not generic fizz.
Small, tight bubbles with good bite. Not aggressive, not soda-pop foamy.
Glass only, 250-330 ml and 750 ml. Quiet, restrained label, bilingual without shouting.
Single source story that’s specific and verifiable. Not “from Canadian springs,” but “this aquifer, this geology.”
Restaurant placement and proper stemware service. If I see it poured tableside, I start trusting it.
Sustainability proof: local bottling, short transport, recyclable materials. Don’t make me feel dumb for shipping water across an ocean.
Price discipline: premium but not silly. If you’re charging import prices, the taste better justify it.
I’m not loyal to Italy. If a Canadian bottle hits those points, I’ll buy it. If it’s canned seltzer with perfume and a loud label, hard pass.
Jennifer Reid, 49, Content Strategist, Kingston, ON, Canada:
Short answer: the Italian bottle feels more premium on first glance, but that’s mostly packaging and narrative, not some mystical alpine superiority. I do notice taste and texture - many European bottles have a chalky-saline edge and tighter bubbles that read as “restaurant” - while most Ontario cans are cleaner, more neutral, and frankly better for everyday. The whole “from the Italian Alps” line hits the same part of the brain as an embossed label and green glass - a conditioned association I’ve definitely absorbed. It’s bubbles with a passport, not Barolo. If a Canadian sparkling wanted to feel as special without cosplay, I’d want:
Returnable glass with heft, restrained design, no faux-Italian script, and a reuse program I can actually execute at No Frills.
A precise mineral sheet on label and site plus clean tasting notes - not “pristine” fluff.
Consistent microbubbles and a clear carbonation spec, so the mouthfeel isn’t a coin toss.
Specific source transparency - map coordinates, geology context, seasonality admitted if it varies.
Placement on good restaurant tables and indie cafes for community proof, not influencer froth.
Real sustainability math: transport kilometres, refill rate, glass recovery - audited, not greenwashed.
Pricing that says “treat” not “import tax,” with a crate option that reduces waste and cupboard chaos.
Do that and the imported cachet shrinks to table decor - pretty, sure, but not inherently better.
Hannah Clarke, 36, Community Volunteer, Oshawa, ON, Canada:
Short answer: the Italian stuff still feels more premium to me, mostly because of all the cues around it. The glass bottle, the quiet label, the little line about mountains, and those softer, tight bubbles - it reads as special-occasion water. Taste-wise I usually find imports a touch more mineral and Ontario ones cleaner and neutral. For daily drinking I actually prefer the neutral Canadian cans, and I do side-eye shipping heavy glass across the ocean, but the ritual of the import still gets me. So yes, it is marketing, but it is also decades of restaurant cues and packaging doing their job. What would make a Canadian sparkling water feel just as special to me:
Glass bottle with restraint - thick glass, simple label, no shouty fonts.
Bubble texture - consistently fine, tight bubbles that feel soft rather than fizzy-aggressive.
Source story that feels real - where the spring is, what the terrain is like, and how the site is protected. Keep it plain and verifiable.
Minerality clarity - a simple note about the character in the taste, not a chemistry lesson, just why it tastes the way it does.
Service cues - show up in good restaurants and cafés, chilled, poured at the table. That matters more than Instagram ads.
Sustainability that is concrete - refillable or deposit glass in Ontario, not just a leaf icon.
Price signal without gouging - a small step up from grocery cans so it feels treat-y, but not silly.
On a rainy day like this, I grab the Canadian cans for the fridge and save the fancy glass for when a friend comes over - habit, I guess, but it works for me.
