Salt licorice — or salmiak in Swedish, salmiakki in Finnish — is one of the most divisive candies in the world. Half of Northern Europe considers it essential; the other half of the world considers it a clerical error. The Nordic countries don't really care what you think, because they've been eating it since before your great-grandparents were born.
Here's what salmiak actually is, why it tastes the way it does, and exactly how to start if you're salmiak-curious.
What is salmiak, chemically?
Salmiak is licorice flavoured with ammonium chloride (NH₄Cl). Yes — the chemical compound. It's added in small amounts (typically 1-8%) to licorice base, and it's responsible for the savoury, salty, slightly alkaline punch that defines the category. The technical term for the salty note is 'umami-adjacent salt' — it doesn't taste like table salt; it tastes like minerals.
Ammonium chloride has been used as a folk-medicine cough suppressant for centuries — which is how it ended up in candy. Nordic apothecaries handed out salmiak lozenges; people kept eating them after their colds cleared. Confectioners noticed and started making non-medicinal versions. By the early 20th century, salmiak was a standalone candy category.
Why Nordics love it
If you grew up with salmiak in your candy bowl, the flavour reads as comforting and complex. The salt-mineral note balances the sweetness of the licorice base, the texture is satisfyingly dense, and the aftertaste lingers in a way that makes you reach for another piece. It's an adult flavour — closer to a good single malt than to a typical candy — and Nordic palates are wired for it from childhood.
Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Norway and Iceland all have strong salmiak traditions, and there are quietly competitive opinions about whose is best. Finland leans hardest into salt content (the brand Tyrkisk Peber from Fazer hits genuinely intense levels). Sweden runs a touch sweeter. The Dutch eat enormous quantities of double-salt licorice. Iceland has versions wrapped in chocolate that are oddly perfect.
The acquired-taste problem (and the solution)
Most non-Nordic adults trying salmiak for the first time taste 'salty + medicinal + weird' and put it down. That's not because the candy is bad — it's because you've been culturally trained to expect candy to be sweet. Salmiak rewards a different posture: you don't eat it like a candy, you eat it like a small intense experience.
Here's the sequence that converts the most skeptics:
- Start with mild Swedish salt licorice (around 2-3% salmiak content). Avoid the extreme stuff like Djungelvrål on day one.
- Eat it slowly. Let it sit on your tongue for a moment before chewing. The flavour unfolds over 10-15 seconds.
- Drink water after, not during. The aftertaste is part of the experience.
- Try it with dark chocolate. The pairing is genuinely transcendent — the bitter cocoa and the salty licorice cancel each other's edges.
- Eat a second piece an hour later. Almost everyone enjoys the second one more than the first.
“Salmiak is the rare candy that makes more sense the second time. Almost no one loves it on first bite. Almost everyone who eats three of them gets it.”
What to try first
For the salmiak-curious, the gentlest entry points are mild Swedish salt licorice (anything labelled "mild" or "soft"), Fazer Salmiakki, and the BUBS Raspberry Liquorice Skulls (the licorice base is mild and the raspberry layer cuts through it). Avoid anything labelled "extra salt," "double salt," "Djungelvrål," or "Tyrkisk Peber" until you've built up. (More on Fazer's salmiak →)
Why it matters
Salmiak isn't a gimmick. It's a fundamental part of Nordic food culture — alongside rye bread, fermented fish, and pickled herring, it occupies the same 'we like savoury-salty flavours that confuse outsiders' niche. Trying it isn't optional if you want to understand Swedish candy properly. The salmiak shelf is half the candy aisle's character.
We carry a curated range of Swedish salt licorice from mild to extreme. Browse the catalogue and look for the "licorice" tag, or build a mix and include one or two licorice items alongside sweeter candy. The contrast is the point.
If you try one piece and hate it, that's fine. Come back in three months and try one more. Half the converts in our customer base started skeptical.