Does salt really matter? I used to shrug. Salt is salt, right? Then my friend brought me a little tub of Le Saunier de Camargue fleur de sel from Paris. I sprinkled it on a summer tomato. I took one bite. I froze, then laughed. It was like the tomato woke up. (I share the full blow-by-blow in this in-depth review.)
Why I Even Tried It
I cook most nights. Two kids, a hungry partner, a busy brain. I keep a small pinch bowl by the stove. I had table salt and a big blue box of La Baleine sea salt. Then came the French stuff. I tested it on normal food first—eggs, toast, cookies. Simple things tell the truth.
Here’s what happened in my kitchen.
Fleur de Sel: Tiny Flakes, Big Grin
I used Le Saunier de Camargue. The flakes look like snow, but softer. They crunch once, then melt.
- On tomatoes: wild. Sweet, bright, a little sea breeze.
- On steak: I rest the steak, then add a pinch. The crust pops more.
- On chocolate chip cookies: a few flakes on top before baking. My partner said, “These taste fancy.” Same dough, new magic. If you crave that salty–sweet contrast in snack form, try a handful of French burnt peanuts—the red candy shell and roasted nut give a similarly satisfying bite.
- On buttered baguette: we do this as a snack after soccer practice. Warm bread, good butter, a kiss of fleur de sel. It feels like a treat, even on a Tuesday.
The good: it gives a clean, gentle snap and doesn’t shout. The not-so-good: it’s pricey. My tub was around $12 for a small amount. Also, it clumps if the lid sits open. Keep it dry.
Sel Gris (Guérande Gray Salt): The Damp Workhorse
I buy Le Paludier de Guérande gray salt in a 1 kg bag. It’s damp and a bit chunky. It tastes more earthy. Like rain on stone, in a good way.
I use it to:
- Brine a chicken overnight. The skin roasts up golden. The meat stays juicy.
- Season grilled zucchini and mushrooms. It makes veggies taste meaty.
- Feed my sourdough starter and dough. The loaf got better chew and a deeper flavor.
Tip from my mistakes: gray salt can jam a metal grinder. Mine gunked up. Now I crush it with a mortar and pestle, or I use a ceramic grinder (my Peugeot mill with a ceramic mechanism handles it fine). Also, it’s cheaper than fleur de sel and comes in a big bag, so it’s nice for cooking, not just finishing.
La Baleine: The Everyday Friend
La Baleine fine sea salt lives on my counter. I use it for pasta water and soups. It dissolves fast and tastes clean. No fuss. It’s not as fun as flaky salt on top of food, but it’s reliable and easy to find. The coarse La Baleine works in grinders that stay dry.
Little Tests I Ran (Real Food, Real People)
- Tomato test: half a cherry tomato with table salt, half with fleur de sel. The fleur de sel side tasted brighter and a bit sweet. My kid picked that half.
- Cookie test: I baked one tray plain and one with a light sprinkle of fleur de sel. The salted tops vanished first.
- Egg test: soft scramble with La Baleine in the eggs, then one pinch of fleur de sel at the end. Simple, but it felt like café eggs.
- Steak night: I salted the meat with gray salt before cooking, then finished with a few flakes of fleur de sel. That two-step gave me crust plus sparkle.
What I Loved
- Food tastes clearer, not just saltier.
- Fleur de sel gives a happy crunch that fades fast.
- Gray salt brings depth to slow food like roasts and stews.
- A tiny pinch goes far, so I don’t overdo it.
What Bugged Me
- Fleur de sel is expensive for daily cooking.
- Gray salt is damp and can clog grinders.
- Most French sea salts aren’t iodized. If you need iodine, keep iodized salt too.
- Flake size makes volume measurements tricky in baking. I weigh my salt now.
Tiny Tips That Help
- Store fleur de sel in a small jar with a tight lid. I use a ceramic pot on my counter and refill from the tub.
- Keep gray salt out of metal grinders. Mortar and pestle works best for me.
- For pasta water and baking, use fine sea salt or weigh the salt so it’s consistent.
- Don’t waste fleur de sel in boiling water. It’s a finishing salt—let it shine on top.
- If your kitchen is humid, toss a silica packet in the cabinet near your salts (not in the salt).
Who Should Try French Salt?
- Home cooks who like small touches that feel big.
- Bakers who enjoy a salty-sweet hit on cookies, brownies, or caramel.
- Anyone who eats a lot of simple food—eggs, tomatoes, bread, grilled fish—and wants them to sing.
French salt is just one way France seduces the senses. If you’re curious about how entire cities turn on the charm as effortlessly as a flake of fleur de sel on a ripe tomato, take a peek at the world’s most alluring urban playgrounds in this roundup of the sexiest cities on the planet. The guide spotlights nightlife, food culture, and can’t-miss experiences, so you can plan a getaway that feels every bit as flavorful as your salt-speckled dinner.
For a stateside detour, anyone headed to California’s Inland Empire and looking to season their night with something a little more grown-up than fleur de sel can tap into the local dating scene through this no-fluff guide to “skipping the games” in Moreno Valley, which highlights trusted meeting spots, vetting tips, and etiquette cues so you can savor the fun without the guesswork.
If you need just one, start with fleur de sel. If you cook big pots and brine meat, add gray salt too. I keep both now, plus La Baleine for the everyday stuff. You can find all three—along with other French pantry gems—at La Petite France.
The Short, Honest Verdict
French salt didn’t turn me into a chef. But it did make my food taste more “itself.” Tomatoes taste more tomato. Steak tastes more steak. And cookies? They’re now “save me one” cookies.
I’ll keep a tub of Le Saunier de Camargue for finishing, a bag of Guérande gray salt for cooking, and La Baleine for the basics. It’s a small change that makes dinner feel special, even on a busy night when I’m stirring a pot with one hand and tying a cleat with the other.