Early on, we knew what we didn’t want. Another black cherry. Another mango. Another drink that tastes fine for three sips and then slowly turns into something you tolerate because it’s already open. We weren’t trying to invent a new flavor trend. We were trying to create something you’d want to keep drinking over a long day—without thinking about it.

The first real breakthrough happened late one night when we stopped talking and started making something. No carbonation. Real ingredients. A clean alcohol base, diluted properly. Fresh cucumber juice. Mint. Ginger. Lemon. Water. It didn’t taste like a cocktail or a seltzer. It tasted alive. Light. Refreshing. We kept drinking it because it felt good to drink, not because it was loud or sweet. That first prototype became the bar. If we couldn’t recreate that feeling, we weren’t moving forward.

That’s when we learned the hardest truth about beverages: the moment you try to scale something real, everything pushes you toward shortcuts.

Most canned drinks are built through flavor houses—systems designed for speed, cost efficiency, and shelf stability. They rely on large buckets of “natural flavors” engineered to approximate fruit, not express it. They survive production well. They just don’t feel real. Aroma collapses. Texture disappears. Everything becomes flat and familiar.

We tried that path. It didn’t work.

So instead of buying flavor, we treated flavor like formulation. Real organic juice became the foundation, not a garnish. That decision made everything harder. Sourcing organic ingredients at scale is expensive. Fresh juice behaves differently over time. Flavor changes. Aroma fades. What tastes perfect in a prototype can fall apart months later on a shelf.

This became the biggest challenge of the entire product.

Making something taste good once is easy.
Making it taste good every time, over time, without artificial crutches—that’s hard.

We didn’t solve it by masking flavor. We solved it by refining structure. One variable at a time. Juice ratios. Acid balance. Aroma lift. Mouthfeel. Finish. How long a flavor lingers. How cleanly it resets after each sip. If something overstayed its welcome, it was cut. If something felt heavy or synthetic, it didn’t make it through.

Out of that process came two flavors—not as “SKUs,” but as experiences.

MINTED SOL = Fresh

Cucumber | Mint | Lemon | Ginger

Minted Sol is green, bright, and clarifying.
It feels like shade after sun. Like a poolside afternoon. Like a quiet spa tucked into the cliffs of Positano. It’s hydrating, clean, and crisp without being sharp. The cucumber leads. The mint opens the aromatics. Lemon lifts. Ginger snaps and disappears.

This is a drink for daylight. For movement. For heat.
It doesn’t demand attention. It resets you.

SOLAR DRIFT = Unwind

Pineapple | Coconut | Ginger

Solar Drift sits on the other end of the spectrum.
Warmer. Rounder. Slower. Think long beach days in St. Martin. Sun low. No rush. Pineapple gives brightness without sweetness. Coconut adds body without heaviness. Ginger keeps it modern and clean.

It’s relaxed, but still light.
A tropical experience without the sugar crash or syrupy weight.

Together, the flavors were designed around states and places, not trends:

elevate ↔ unwind
poolside ↔ shoreline
clarity ↔ ease

That framing guides everything we do next. Every future flavor will start with a scene, a feeling, a setting—how you want to feel where you are—before we ever talk about ingredients.

The easy road would have been cheaper flavors, artificial boosters, louder profiles. We didn’t take it. We chose the harder path because the experience demanded it.

Real flavor takes work.
But when you get it right, people don’t analyze it.

They just reach for another sip.