Pablo Urbandt is one of the last of his kind.
At 6:30 every morning, he starts his route, delivering bottles of seltzer to homes throughout South Florida.
Once common in some parts of the United States, home-delivered seltzer is now a rarity. But Urbandt's customers — mostly immigrants from Argentina, where the service is still everywhere — create a unique opportunity for him to carry on the tradition of the sodero, or sodaman.
"This is an art that is being lost," said Urbandt, 56, of Kendall.
On his route, the sodaman delivers siphon bottles filled with seltzer and retrieves empties. The trade was brought to America and Argentina by Eastern European Jews who used to drink the seltzer. In Argentina, the concept spread beyond the Jewish community and became a national custom.
Here in Miami, Alex Levin and his wife, Beatriz De Singlau, have been fans of Urbandt's soda for more than a year.
"We had a sodaman in Argentina," said Levin, who's been living here for nine years. "That's why as soon as we found out there was one here, we wanted to get delivery."
Urbandt, owner and founder of Leon Seltzer, has been delivering soda for six years. The trade is an old one, dating back to the days of the milkman and the shoe shiner. In South Florida, there seems to be only one other soda delivery man, Jerry's Seltzer in North Miami, who like Urbandt actually hand-delivers and fills the siphons himself. They are among the few sodamen left in America.
The seltzer is basically cold water injected with carbon dioxide, which gives it its fresh, fizzy taste. It is traditionally drunk out of a pressure-packed siphon, which keeps the water cool, and the fizz from going out.
Seltzer bottles used to be made of colored glass, with metal siphons protruding from the top. Now the bottle and siphon are plastic, but the effect is the same: You pull down a lever and out sprays the seltzer with a loud sputtering sound.
According to Steve Briner, the now-retired owner of Papa's Seltzer, a former seltzer bottler in North Miami, the demographic changes and the advent of of club sodas sold in supermarkets led to the demise of the soda delivery man. Briner said there used to be around 15 local soda delivery men in the 1960s, but now they are all retired because their customers have moved up north or stopped drinking the seltzer altogether.
What keeps the trade alive is the Argentine population, Urbandt says, which makes up most of his business. In Argentina, the seltzer is almost a national drink, where it is mixed with wine for meals.
For him, the trade goes back a few generations in his own family. In his native Argentina, Urbandt's grandfather had tried to open a soda business in Claypole, in the province of Buenos Aires. But a neighboring business beat him to the punch and opened its own factory, Soderia Claypole, a few blocks from his house, so his grandfather gave up on the idea.
When Urbandt moved to New York as an 11-year-old in 1964, he would help his father in his butcher's shop after school. When the family moved to Miami in 1980, Urbandt's father continued in the meat business.
After working for eight years as an aircraft mechanic for Eastern Airlines, Urbandt decided he didn't want to work for anyone but himself.
"I don't like to have a boss; I'm my own boss," he said.
So Urbandt decided to fulfill his grandfather's dream and go into the soda business. He imported everything he needed from Argentina, including the siphons, bottles and machines that carbonate the water and clean the bottles. He now delivers to 300 customers from Homestead to Boca Raton
One customer of three years, Valeria Aragon, said she prefers her soda delivery to buying seltzer water in a supermarket.
"The siphons are delivered to my house, so it's more convenient," Aragon said. Aragon, who is from Buenos Aires, said tradition played a huge part in getting the soda delivery.
"I think it was the fact that I was so used to pushing the lever of the siphon that I wanted it," said Aragon.
For her, soda is best when paired with wine.
"When someone comes over for dinner, there is no way we share it!" Aragon said jokingly.
When Urbandt opened his soda business, he found people would come to him to refill siphons that were 50 to 60 years old.
Word-of-mouth ensued, shaping his business into a mainly Argentine market, with some Uruguayans and American customers as well.
"Since they were so used to this piece of Argentina, I remind them of their country," said Urbandt. He goes to each client once every two weeks, going to Broward two days a week and three days to Miami-Dade.
"I cover a lot of ground," said Urbandt. "When I go to Broward I can cover up to the distance between Miami and Orlando."
Urbandt says he has put about 145,000 miles on his van since 2005.
"I eat on the van and maybe stop for the bathroom in Publix," he said. "That van talks to me."
Urbandt usually delivers a minimum of six bottles per household, depending on the family size. He calls the day before delivery to ask whether the client needs a refill.
He sometimes starts at 4:30 a.m. and ends his day at 4:30 p.m.
He doesn't charge for missed deliveries. What he charges is the delivered price, $1.40 per 1.5-liter bottle.
The sodero trade is an old one that still thrives in bustling Buenos Aires. But in America, this trade is dying.
"I think over the years it will die with the generations, as the Argentinean youth will grow unaccustomed to the soda siphon," Urbandt said.
But for now, Urbandt is content to bring some nostalgia back into the houses of his customers.
"On Christmas, since I go to these customers all year long, they say 'thank you for a little bit of Argentina in my life.' "
