I spent two weeks in France with a tote bag… and came home with a suitcase full of candy. You know what? No regrets. I tried classics at a little shop called Le Bonbon au Palais in Paris, hit Monoprix for the cheap stuff, and grabbed tins at train stations. Some sweets made me grin. Some made me wince. Here’s what actually stuck with me—sometimes to my teeth.
For an even deeper dive into every wrapper I peeled back, check out my complete French candy adventure.
Carambar: The Joke That Bites Back
First day, I bought Carambar (the caramel kind) at a tabac near Bastille. The wrapper has a silly joke inside. I tried to read it, but the bar was already glued to my molars. It’s hard at first, then it warms and stretches. It tastes like deep caramel with a hint of butter.
- What I loved: cheap, fun, very French. A kid next to me on Line 8 asked for my joke. We traded.
- What bugged me: it pulls. If you have fillings, be careful.
- Favorite flavor: caramel. Cola was fine. Strawberry tasted fake to me.
Would I buy again? Yes. One or two. Not ten.
If you’d like the candy’s full origin story (and a reminder of just how many flavors exist), hop over to its Wikipedia pages in English or in French for a quick crash course.
Calissons d’Aix: Sweet, Soft, and a Little Fancy
At La Cure Gourmande, I tried calissons from Aix—almond paste with candied melon under a thin white glaze. The top is smooth, like porcelain. The center tastes like almond and honey. It’s floral. It’s gentle.
I loved the first one. The third felt rich. I needed tea. This is a slow candy, not a snack raid.
- Best brand I had: Le Roy René. The texture was even. No grainy bits.
- Tip: cut them in half and share. They’re pricey and filling.
Anis de Flavigny: The Tin That Lives in My Bag
I grabbed a violet tin at Gare de Lyon before a train. Each pastille has an anise seed at the center. Crunch the shell, then let it melt. The violet flavor felt old-timey but in a good way. Lemon was brighter.
- Pros: classy tin, long-lasting, great on trains.
- Cons: bite too soon and the seed is sharp. I learned fast.
This became my “I’m stuck in a taxi” candy. Calms me down. Smells nice.
Salted Butter Caramels from Brittany: Tiny Joys
Caramels d’Isigny hit like a soft hug. Butter first, then salt. Not too sticky. I ate them on a windy walk in Saint-Malo and felt warm. Some had little salt crystals. Those were my favorite.
- Win: simple, rich, not fake.
- Miss: a few melted together in my pocket. Paper wrappers saved me.
If you like caramel, just get these. They’re a sure bet.
Haribo Tagada: Red, Sweet, and Loud
Friends in Lyon poured a bowl of Tagada at game night. Bright red. Sugar dust. Soft foam chew. Do they taste like real strawberry? No. Do I care? Also no.
- Love: fun texture, great for sharing.
- Hate: the dust gets everywhere. My fingers looked like I fought a candy clown.
Kids adore them. I ate more than I planned.
If you prefer something with a nutty crunch instead of foam, the bright sugar shell on French burnt peanuts might hit the spot.
Nougat de Montélimar: Nuts and Honey, Soft but Not Too Soft
A vendor let me try a slice with pistachios. The honey comes through first, then almond. It pulls a little but doesn’t fight like taffy. Chabert & Guillot was the brand I liked most.
- Great with: espresso. The bitter coffee cuts the sweet.
- Watch out: some slices were dry at the edges near the air.
A dash of French vanilla syrup in that coffee makes the pairing even dreamier.
Fresh nougat is a different thing than the boxed kind. If you see a big wheel, ask for a thin slice.
Pâtes de Fruits: Little Squares, Big Flavor
I tasted cassis, apricot, and quince at a market stall. They’re soft fruit jellies rolled in sugar. When they’re good, they taste like the fruit, not like candy.
- Cassis (blackcurrant) was bold. Tart and deep.
- Apricot was sunshine. My top pick.
- Tip: avoid ones that feel weepy or wet. They won’t hold shape.
I tucked two squares into my coat pocket for later. Best train snack.
Anyone who swoons for concentrated fruit flavor should also give real French jam a spoon-test—it’s basically pâte de fruit in a jar.
Bêtises de Cambrai: A Sweet Mistake That Works
Hard mint with a stripe. The story says a candy maker messed up, and it became a hit. I like the clean mint and slight caramel note. It’s crisp, not sticky.
- Good for: a long walk. Clears the head.
- Bad for: quick sugar. It’s slow.
I kept one in my cheek on a cool morning in Lille. Felt sharp and fresh.
Pastilles Vichy: Spa Water, But Candy
They’re chalky mints made with mineral salts. Sounds odd. Tastes clean, like a gentle mint with a hint of lemon and… well, rock. My friend’s grandma swears by them.
- Love: settles the stomach after heavy food.
- Pass: if you want sweet. This is more “hmm” than “yum.”
I used them after a cheese lunch. Worked like a charm.
Speaking of dairy, I recently demolished a slice of light, tangy French cheesecake that deserves its own passport stamp.
Michoko by Cémoi: The Coffee Buddy
Dark chocolate on the outside, soft caramel inside. Simple. Reliable. I ate two with a café crème in the late afternoon and felt human again.
- Pro: small, tidy, not messy.
- Con: the bag disappears fast.
If you like Rolos, this is like the French cousin in a black coat.
Lutti Arlequin and Têtes Brûlées: Sour That Stings
Arlequin are shiny, sour hard candies with a swirl. They hit the sides of your tongue. Têtes Brûlées go harder. My lips puckered. I made a face. Then I wanted another.
- Note: too many will rough up your tongue. I speak from pain.
Good movie candy, if you like a little chaos.
Where I Bought Stuff (So You Can Too)
- Le Bonbon au Palais (Paris 5e): old-school jars, kind shopkeeper, good tips.
- Monoprix and Franprix: quick bags of Haribo, Lutti, Michoko.
- Train stations: tins of Anis de Flavigny, Pastilles Vichy, gift boxes.
- Markets: nougat, pâtes de fruits, salted caramels.
Prefer shopping from home? You can find a curated selection of these treats at La Petite France, which ships internationally. And if you’re browsing for goodies beyond the sweet aisle, I have thoughts on French snacks that actually make it into my carry-on.
If the store lets you taste, say yes. One nibble can save you euros.
A Real-Week Candy Log
- Monday: Carambar on the Métro. Nearly lost a filling. Kept the joke.
- Tuesday: Anis de Flavigny on the TGV. Watched fields blur. Felt calm.
- Wednesday: Tagada at a friend’s flat. Laughed. Sugar dust everywhere.
- Thursday: Calisson with tea. Half was perfect. A whole one felt rich.
- Friday: Salted caramel by the sea. Wind, salt, sweet. Happy.
- Saturday: Nougat slice at a market. Coffee after. Balanced.
- Sunday: Vichy pastille post-brunch. Stomach said thanks.
Quick Picks
- Best for kids: Haribo Tagada, Lutti Arlequin
- Best with coffee: Michoko, Nougat de Montélimar
- Best gift: Calissons d’Aix, Caramels d’Isigny, Anis de Flavigny tins
- Best for fresh breath: Bêtises de Cambrai, Pastilles Vichy
If a sugar rush puts you in an especially chatty (or flirty) mood, you could channel