15 La Croix Drink Flavors, Ranked

You may have seen La Croix sparkling water in the carbonated beverage aisle and wondered what they're all about with its fruit-centric names and sophisticated cursive logo. As the cans themselves declare, La Croix has no calories, sweeteners, or sodium, consisting of "only carbonated water, naturally essenced" (La Croix is a bit mum on what "naturally essenced" means, but we can infer from food-labeling laws that it's a flavoring sourced from fruits or vegetables). In essence, the whole point of La Croix is that there's not much stuff in it. 

Containing no gut-friendly additions, La Croix isn't one of those highly trending prebiotic sodas. Because it's not made with artificial sweeteners, it didn't factor when we ranked the most popular diet soda brands. La Croix is entirely its own thing, and it's been that way since its creation in the early 1980s. Opinions about La Croix tend to be strong, unlike the taste of "naturally essenced" water itself. These drinks target the beverage consumer interested in a carbonated, minimally flavored drink as close to plain water as possible. That's me — or at least who I'm trying to become — so I just had to test a bunch of its flavors to see how they fell in my own ranking.

But here's the thing: because you don't get the palate-saturating sweetness of a fruit-based diet drink like Fresca, that "barely-there" essence on your taste buds can be astonishingly off-putting with the wrong flavors. Some just didn't work as "naturally essenced" — they needed sweetness, natural or otherwise, to taste palatable. Others sufficed or provided a little pleasure, while several of them offered a tasting experience I'd happily reach for again.

Tangerine La Croix offered a very light, citrusy-orange aroma. On my first sip, I was met with a mild taste that can only be described as the flavor of water you've used to rinse out an empty orange juice carton — except bubbly. When I held the drink on my tongue for a few seconds, it didn't intensify in flavor at all. At this point, I already knew I didn't like this one, but the worst was yet to come.

Upon swallowing, I was confronted with an unpleasant sour aftertaste; not even much citrus was left over. This La Croix flavor might be better if you dropped in a little OJ and mixed it up. On its own, though, the tangerine taste needs sweetness. Otherwise, all you get is an ugly tartness. I'd rather drink Diet Mountain Dew (a drink I typically avoid buying) than this, and that's saying a lot.

The Tangerine La Croix flavor had one thing going for it that Razz Cranberry lacked: a vaguely okay scent. An unpleasant sour smell was my first introduction to Razz Cranberry. I was disappointed but not entirely surprised: both raspberries and cranberries are known for their tartness.

Flavorwise, the drink's aroma didn't lie. The raspberry and cranberry notes were strong in this, which could have been lovely if the flavor wasn't so sour with an icky aftertaste to boot. Much like tangerine, this particular flavor duo needs some kind of sweetness to balance out its tart notes and keep it from veering sour. For me, this would have to be something I use as the mixer for a proper drink — it could be good with either cranberry juice or cranberry cocktail and a little apple cider. Alone, it's skipping a lot of notes, and the ones it does hit are discordant.

If you've ever reached for what you thought was a glass of soda only to find, upon sipping, that you'd grabbed a glass of water, that moment of disgusted befuddlement best describes my experience with Orange La Croix (The only difference is that I knew exactly what I was drinking). The issue is the taste, or rather, the lack of it.

The drink had barely any scent at all, a feature matched by its flavor. The barest trace of orange was in the sip, but this was wispy at best — a memory of somebody describing the flavor of orange, if you will; there was hardly even an aftertaste to speak of. Personally, I would see no point in buying this, especially not with other La Croix flavors offering so much more, but you might prefer this if ... well, if you're tired of beverages having flavor and tasting like things. Since Orange wasn't downright foul to me, unlike Tangerine and Razz Cranberry, it's sitting here in the 13th position, minding its own business by doing absolutely nothing.

I could smell the strawberry when I cracked this can of Strawberry Peach La Croix open to take the photo — a good sign, considering my experience with Orange. With the can held up to my nose, the strawberry was even stronger.

My first sip revealed well-blended strawberry and peach notes, and they weren't shy; this La Croix flavor was one of the most intense that I tasted. Upon swallowing, though, I was left with a sense of lack. The drink wasn't bad, but my taste buds expect sweetness to follow strawberry and peach notes, and without it, it felt unfinished.

If you don't have the problem I have with expecting sweetness, this could turn out to be one of your favorites. The peach does balance the strawberry nicely, which is more than I could say for Strawberry Vanilla Olipop, which I wouldn't buy again. For me, a balancing note and adequate sweetness are vital in a drink with strawberry, and this La Croix flavor only fulfills one of those two criteria.

I had expectations about this flavor when I opened the can: it had a slight grape-like aroma, and grape's not usually my favorite. At first contact with my taste buds, the drink gave fun bubblegum-like notes, and after swallowing, the immediate aftertaste was nice and berry-like. However, the aftertaste soon transitioned into an unpleasant tartness that was, thankfully, less overwhelming than that of its cousin, Razz Cranberry. It was still notable enough to send it to the middle of the ranking, though.

Despite this, Black Razzberry La Croix was nice most of the time it spent on my taste buds, and I can see it excelling as a mixer in a mocktail full of fruit juices and some sweet syrup, where its tartness could be tempered with sugar. It wouldn't be my pick as a standalone beverage, but I suspect the flavor has fans out there who feel differently.

Why La Croix calls its grapefruit variety of water by the fruit's French name, pamplemousse, I don't know, but it is a fun word to say (if, presumably, you didn't grow up saying it). For me, the name gave the drink a little pre-game party that amped me up to expect something utterly pamplemousse-y and delightful.

When I sample(moussed) the pamplemousse, I was met with a light, citrusy aroma and a correspondingly muted, grapefruit-tinged flavor. It wasn't bad, but it would have tasted brighter and happier with more prominent fruitiness. In fact, the carbonation buzz from the freshly opened can overpowered the flavor for me, as if blowing it away from my taste buds. The grapefruit hit more when I held a sip on my palate longer, but once swallowed, it dissipated fast. I'd only get a case of this flavor if I were looking to make a sparkling grapefruit mocktail with real fruit juice added for a more satisfying flavor.

I love the fact that La Croix makes a passionfruit-essenced water. To me, it's a joy-inducing fruit — the culmination of all tropical flavors rolled into one — and it deserves more attention. This Passionfruit water had a light, citrusy scent that didn't promise everything a whole passionfruit offers, but which was still distinct from other La Croix flavors — a pretty hopeful start.

The flavor itself was nice and tropical and induced a smile. Though nowhere near the intensity of the real-deal fruit or its juice, it was still irrefutably passionfruit with a pleasant aftertaste. I believe just a tad more "essence" would be nice, but for a purposely lightly flavored water, this is very passable. I would drink it on its own, but it would, of course, also have a home in vacay-inspired drinks with a little fruit juice and agave nectar.

Coconut is one of my true loves; this can of La Croix could have been brimming with its star flavor compound, and I'd have been happy. Naturally, I had to prepare myself for a much more muted, "essenced" experience — one that was foreshadowed by Coconut La Croix's very light scent.

On first contact with my palate, the flavor seemed like it was going to pop in a most un-La Croix-like way. Instead of intensifying into that iconic sweet, nutty note, the coconut backed off, as if it opened its mouth to yell, "Coconut!" and then got bashful. This sounds much less complimentary than it should — I actually enjoyed this La Croix flavor. It's not one of the varieties that suffers from lack of sweeteners, which surprised me considering coconut's strong connotations in our culture with sweetness (whether that's coconut cream pie or Mounds bars). I could get used to this on its own, in a mocktail with coconut milk or, of course, in a piña colada.

Guava–flavored sparkling water isn't something we see often in the supermarket, so I was eager to try this La Croix flavor. The purpose behind the addition of "São Paolo" to the name isn't clear, unless it's a reference to the fact that Brazil produces a lot of red guavas. Either way, the name lends an exciting, passport-in-hand feel to the drink; it smacks of sunny beaches. I was curious if its taste lived up to these connotations.

The scent certainly did. It was spirited, feisty, and undeniably guava. My first sip had me delighted, too. It offered a palate-pleasing, medium-strength guava flavor, which is relatively high for a La Croix. This water left only a hint of sourness in its aftertaste, but it was nowhere near bad enough to make the drink unpleasant. This is one I'd chug on its own, for sure, or employ in a tropical-themed mocktail.

If you hadn't noticed the theme developing in this ranking, this flavor of La Croix should drive it home: the brand's more tropical-leaning waters seem to be its strong suit. Pastèque — helpfully translated from the French on the can as watermelon — exemplified this pattern beautifully, starting with a pleasant, lightly fragrant watermelon scent.

The watermelon flavor itself was simple but tasty. Held on my tongue, it didn't intensify the way some of the other varieties did, but it was sufficiently refreshing. I didn't get "beach-side resort in France" from its notes, but I did get "sitting in the shade at a 4th-of-July cookout," and that's actually not a bad vibe for me. I can see this performing well with a squeeze of fresh lime juice, a little passionfruit juice, a touch of agave syrup, and a sprinkle of salt on a hot day. I just inspired myself. I'm going to try that when it gets hot outside.

The dash in the name of this La Croix flavor piqued my interest. The brand seems particularly intentional with the names of its beverages, and "Hi-C" — that fruity, hyper-sweet, childhood standby drink — immediately came to mind. That said, Hi-Biscus is like any other La Croix "naturally essenced" beverage in that it contains no calories, sweeteners, and so on. If anything, hopefully the connection with that other "Hi-" beverage (if that's what La Croix was going for) meant "hi-" flavor.

The scent was mildly floral, hibiscus being a flowering plant, and the taste matched it. It was compelling, surprising my palate on the first sip with its almost-sweetness. That effect faded, but what remained was a nice, low-key, tropical flower-like hint. It never veered sour, and it was flavorful enough to have a point to it when consumed on its own, though it would also be stellar as a mixer.

La Croix makes both a lime and a key lime flavor of water. Regular lime was out of stock everywhere on the day I went shopping — maybe it's that good — but I was happy to pick up key lime, a flavor I typically enjoy. Key limes are less tart and more fragrant than regular limes, though when dealing with essenced water, it's anyone's guess how such distinctions play out. The beverage did have a good lime-rich aroma, but I wondered if the flavor would deliver.

It did. The first sip was very satisfying and rich, with the tell-tale creamy note ("creamy" is how I interpret key lime) that gives "white sands beach and flip-flops." This was a worth-it flavor to me without any sweeteners. I would drink it alone, but I also bet it could work poured over lemon or lime sherbet for a non-root beer-based ice cream float with less sugar.

Released in February 2025, Sunshine is one of La Croix's newer flavors. It has the honor of bearing the brand's most coy name (every other flavor name is pretty matter-of-fact in terms of what the water tastes like), and the can design itself shows only sunflowers and a cornflower-blue sky. With that degree of mystery, coupled with such sunny imagery, Sunshine had a lot to live up to. I opted not to read anything about the flavor's key notes before tasting it, not wanting to be influenced.

The scent was interesting — quite light; maybe vaguely floral and citrusy. The flavor was hard to pinpoint — perhaps honeysuckle, but there was something deeper to it. I kept sipping and sipping and finally picked up pineapple notes.

I wasn't sure if I liked Sunshine or not, but then I burped, and it was a joyful experience — pure sunshine — enabling me to see what this beverage is attempting to do (and succeeding). Oh, and according to La Croix's website, Sunshine is "citrus and tropical zest."

This is another La Croix flavor with a name that inspired high expectations. Actual Limoncello is a sweet Italian lemon zest liqueur known for being very lemony, both in aroma and flavor, but not acidic. La Croix Limoncello essenced water promised to live up to this, with its distinct lemon scent.

The flavor started off merely lemony and then began to shift. For a moment there, it almost felt like it was about to turn sweet. It didn't, of course, but after swallowing, the aftertaste further deepened in complexity. By far, this was the most multifaceted La Croix flavor I tried. If complexity isn't what you want in a drink like this, you may not like it. For me, coming off of in-your-face, full-strength diet sodas, this was great on its own, but it would naturally pair well with Limoncello liqueur for a refreshing, sweet spritz. 

Honestly, either of my top three La Croix flavors could be number one, but Beach Plum won the coveted spot for tasting like a long-lost, distant cousin of Diet Dr. Pepper, the best diet soda, in my opinion. And yes, I'm prepared to explain that claim.

Beach Plum offered a pleasant, fruity aroma that almost promised sweetness. The first sip was delightful — an almost berry-like start that morphed into definite plum notes. That alone would have put the flavor in the top three for me, but the aftertaste was where the magic really happened. That was when the stone fruit qualities of the drink sang out, reminding my palate of Diet Dr. Pepper. I'm one of the people who believes — based purely on my own taste buds — that cherry is surely one of Dr. Pepper's 23 flavors. While beach plums aren't cherries, they're both stone fruits, and when ranking Olipop flavors, I realized that Doctor Goodwin, a stone fruit-rich prebiotic soda that I enjoyed, was very reminiscent of Dr. Pepper. Beach Plum La Croix has nowhere near the intensity of those two sodas' flavors, but it's in the same stone fruit family, and I'm nothing if not loyal to that flavor clan.

In selecting flavors for this review of La Croix, I picked up 15 flavors available in my local Walmart and Harris Teeter. I kept them in my fridge until they were crisply cold and then drank them straight from the can. I opted for this over pouring the drinks into a glass as that is how I typically consume sodas, and I wanted to compare them directly with my usual experience of carbonated beverages. 

I sniffed the can to get a sense of the aroma first, after which I took a sip, held the drink on my palate to take note of the flavors, and finally swallowed, noting any aftertastes. The flavors were ranked lower for containing unpleasant notes — particularly sourness — or for tasting dull or "incomplete" due to the lack of sweeteners in La Croix. The flavor had to work as "naturally essenced" to rank high in this review.