Written by: Olivia Avotins
In the heart of a Canadian winter, where most people see frostbitten fingers and the looming credit card charge of new boots to face the whipping winds of Canada, Manuel Bujold Richard sees his most valuable and surprising partner. “Winter makes the best salt.” This idea sits at the centre of Sel Saint Laurent, a boutique salt company built around the rare and counterintuitive process of cold extraction. I recently had the opportunity to speak with both Founder, Manuel Bujold Richard, and talented photographer and creative collaborator of the company, Nancy Guignard, to learn about the elaborate technical and creative processes behind salt production, a fascinating area I was sorely uneducated in. By working with winter rather than against it, Sel Saint Laurent transforms Canada’s frozen landscape into something precise and distinctly local, from the moment seawater is collected to the flakey sea salt that finishes Michelin-starred meals.
The company’s mission began with a startling realization. Despite Quebec being “born in front of the ocean,” one hundred percent of the sea salt used in its kitchens was imported, often from celebrated salt regions like France. Sel Saint Laurent set out to change that narrative by blending Manuel’s background in contemporary art, chemical engineering processes, and the raw force of the St. Lawrence estuary to produce a domestic “finishing touch” that had long been missing from Canadian pantries and taste buds.
The journey of Sel Saint Laurent did not begin in a laboratory, but in the international art world. Before salt, Manuel spent his career creating contemporary art for galleries and museums across Canada, Europe, the United States, and Asia. During the pandemic, a need for freedom and a desire for a road trip took him six hours north of Montreal. There, he began filling eighteen-litre containers with seawater and bringing them back to his city balcony.
This early “balcony salt” experiment quickly caught the attention of Le Mousso, one of the top restaurants in Canada. The project spoke directly to a frustration long felt by high end chefs. While they could source local vegetables and fish the final seasoning was almost always imported. As Manuel puts it, “the decision was to make salt because it’s so easy. There’s water. It’s free. You go on the ocean. You take a bucket.”
While the concept was simple, the execution required a world class technical process. Traditional salt production relies on sun and wind to evaporate water, a method that is impossible in Canada’s climate, making warmer climate countries the expected ideal. To solve this, Sel Saint Laurent collaborated with the University of Manitoba’s climate change department, specialists who study how Arctic ice melts, to develop a process known as cold extraction.
Seawater, is like maple syrup, requiring the removal of massive amounts of water to reach the desired concentration. In the St. Lawrence estuary, salt levels sit at roughly 3.5 percent, meaning over ninety five percent of the volume must be discarded. Boiling that much water would be an energy intensive “black hole,” so the company instead uses winter as its “energy of transformation.” By freezing the water, the H₂O turns to ice while the salt is left behind in a highly concentrated liquid called brine. “The winter is our friend now,” Manuel says. “We use cold extraction like nobody else in the world.”
Production is based in Les Bergeronnes, a secluded region where three major currents meet, creating a protected biodiversity hotspot for whales and belugas. To ensure the highest quality, seawater is pumped directly from the bottom of the ocean. This deep-water source is protected from surface pollution and remains unaffected by shifting surface temperatures.
Once the brine has been concentrated by winter cold, it is transferred to greenhouses, where the heat of summer finishes the crystallization process, forming delicate pyramid shaped flakes. Despite the high-tech automation and hardware required to manage the chemistry, the final harvest remains intentionally “archaic.” The team uses modified snow shovels with holes to hand pick the crystals, since there is no better tool than the human eye and hand to ensure quality.
Beyond its pure salt, Sel Saint Laurent is using its platform to reclaim Canadian ingredients that are often exported before locals ever encounter them. For years, the best Canadian sea urchins were purchased by Japanese buyers and flown overseas, leaving little access at home. Frustrated by this, the company created a sea urchin salt to keep the product on Canadian soil.
Sustainability also takes the form of a circular economy through collaborations with Michelin recognized chefs. Fermentation “residues,” including mushrooms, shrimp, and bee pollen, are blended with salt to create complex seasonings. This approach ensures that nothing goes to waste while offering a one hundred percent Canadian flavour profile.
At its core, Sel Saint Laurent treats salt as an act of change. Making it locally cuts down on unnecessary transport and boosts Canadian markets, but more than that, it asks people to pay attention to what their environment has to offer. Speaking with Manuel and Nancy, I was able to reflect on how often, as a consumer, I overlook seemingly ordinary items, like salt, missing their truly extraordinary properties and potential. The word “salary” comes from salt, which feels like a reminder that this ingredient has always carried weight. By combining climate science with slow, hands-on harvesting, Sel Saint Laurent is making a finishing touch that finally feels like Quebec’s own.
