At a glance

What the listings verify, and what stays unstated

Swipe sideways on mobile. All rows sourced from craitgoods.com, the Amazon listing and Omya's product page as captured on August 22, 2026; listings change, so check the current pages before ordering.

Part 1

What Crait is, and the odd shape of a brand with no face

Every brand this review series has covered so far came with a story: a San Diego founder who lived in a van, a dentist who put her name on the box, a Portland startup with a team page. Crait is the first with none. The brand sells from craitgoods.com, a domain roughly two years old that also sells dog treats under the same name, and across its About and Contact pages it publishes no founding date, no founder, no company address, no phone number and no email. Amazon's Manufacturer field, the last place a company name usually surfaces, says simply "crait". None of this makes the product fake; the gum exists, ships, and has hundreds of verified buyers. But it is worth stating plainly at the top: this is a young brand that tells you nothing about who is behind it, and it happens to be the brand making the single biggest active-ingredient claim in the category. That combination is why this review exists.

The product itself is straightforward on the surface: a sugar-free chewing gum in mint and cinnamon, sold in packs of 30, 60 and 180 pieces. The brand's own site shows a $24.99 price without making clear which pack size it belongs to, and the checkout funnels to Amazon rather than completing on the site, which is a common structure for Amazon-native brands. We could not quote the Amazon price directly because the listing would not ship to our browsing location at capture; it appears to be US-only for now. What Amazon does show, and what deserves recording, is a real market position: the 60-count mint listing carried a 4.1-star average across 397 ratings, an Amazon's Choice badge, and a rank of #216 in Chewing Gum at the time of this review. That is not a ghost listing. People are buying this gum, rating it in the hundreds, and coming back.

The honest baseline, as in every review here. Any sugar-free gum chewed after meals already helps your teeth: chewing raises saliva flow, which dilutes and neutralises plaque acid and carries calcium and phosphate back to the enamel surface, the mechanism the American Dental Association credits when it awards its Seal only to sugar-free gums. Crait's gum, sweetened entirely with polyols and stevia, clears that baseline. Everything else this review examines, the 70 mg most of all, sits on top of it.

Part 2

The label, read in order: what nine ingredients actually say

The full published list, identical on the brand's site and the Amazon listing: "Gum base, sorbitol, maltitol, xylitol, isomalt, hydroxyapatite, magnesium stearate, stevia, silicon dioxide." Nine lines, and because ingredient lists run in descending order by weight, the order is itself information. Read it slowly and two things stand out before the headline active even appears.

First, the sweetener order. Sorbitol comes first among the sweeteners, then maltitol, then xylitol, then isomalt: three polyols in the formula and two of them ahead of the one with the dental evidence base. This matters because the sweetener research in this category is overwhelmingly xylitol research. The Cochrane review of xylitol-containing products found low-quality but consistent evidence of caries reduction with regular use, and the everyday xylitol gums build their entire formulas around that finding: PUR and Spry lead their labels with xylitol, first ingredient after or even before the gum base. Crait puts it fourth. Sorbitol and maltitol are perfectly acceptable sugar-free sweeteners, they do not feed cavity bacteria the way sugar does, but they do not carry xylitol's evidence either, and a label that lists them ahead of xylitol is telling you, in the quiet way labels tell you things, that xylitol is a supporting player here rather than the lead. When Crait's own page says "Xylitol helps limit cavity-causing bacteria and keeps breath fresh", that sentence is fair about the ingredient and silent about the amount, and the list order suggests the amount is not the label's proudest number.

Second, the rest of the list is unremarkable in the good sense. A conventional gum base, magnesium stearate and silicon dioxide as processing aids, stevia rounding out the sweetness. Nothing alarming, nothing artisanal: this is a standard manufactured gum architecture, closer to CaviChew's conventional base than to the tree-sap chews of Vanman or Underbrush. Buyers who care about a natural chew base should know this is not that product; buyers who just want a functional sugar-free carrier for the mineral will find nothing here to object to.

And then, sixth on the list, the reason anyone is here: hydroxyapatite. Mid-list on the label, front and centre in the marketing, and attached to the boldest number in the category. It deserves its own section, because following that number to its source is where this review earns its keep.

Part 3

The 70 mg, followed to its source

Start with the credit, because it is real. Crait advertises "70mg of OMYADENT® non-nano hydroxyapatite per piece". That sentence does two things almost nobody else in this category does: it states a per-piece dose, and it names the branded supplier ingredient behind it. Vanman publishes neither. Underbrush publishes neither. CaviChew publishes a particle size but no dose. Our own dose survey across the category found that most hydroxyapatite gums publish no milligram figure at all, so a brand that prints 70 mg and a trademark on the same line has done more label work than nearly all of its competitors combined. And that transparency is precisely what made the rest of this section possible: because Crait named OMYADENT, anyone can look up who makes it. This is how disclosure is supposed to work, and Crait should get unambiguous credit for enabling it.

OMYADENT is made by Omya, and Omya says what it is. Omya AG is a Swiss mineral company, one of the world's large producers of calcium carbonate, and OMYADENT is its oral-care ingredient line. Omya's own product page describes OMYADENT as "functionalized minerals, with a core of calcium carbonate and a shell of hydroxyapatite". Read that twice, because it changes what the 70 mg means. Calcium carbonate is the chalk-family mineral, the same compound as limestone and eggshell; it is not the mineral your enamel is made of. Hydroxyapatite, the enamel mineral, is present as a shell on the surface of each particle. So OMYADENT is a composite: a chalk core wearing an enamel-mineral coat. That is a legitimate, deliberate piece of materials engineering, and there is a defensible logic to it, since the surface is where a particle meets the tooth. But it means the 70 mg on Crait's page is 70 mg of composite particle, not 70 mg of hydroxyapatite.

And the one number that would resolve it is published by nobody. How much of each OMYADENT particle is shell and how much is core, what percentage of the 70 mg is actually hydroxyapatite, appears nowhere: not on Crait's product page, not on its Amazon listing, and not on Omya's own page. Neither company publishes a numeric particle size either; Crait says "non-nano" and Omya's page offers no nanometre figure. The result is an arithmetic dead end that no buyer can escape from the outside. If the shell is a generous fraction of the particle, Crait's gum might genuinely carry the most hydroxyapatite in the category. If the shell is thin, the true hydroxyapatite content could be a modest number wearing a big one. Nothing published lets anyone say which, and we will not guess in either direction. What we will say is this: the fix costs one line of text. Publish the hydroxyapatite fraction of OMYADENT, and the biggest number on the shelf becomes the best-documented number on the shelf. That is an outcome we would sincerely welcome, and given how much label courage Crait has already shown by printing a dose at all, it is the natural next step rather than a reversal.

The claims around the number are, mostly, better behaved than the category average. Crait's page says "Hydroxyapatite works with your saliva to remineralize and protect enamel naturally" and calls the gum "a gentle, enamel-friendly choice for those avoiding fluoride and harsh whitening agents", all under an FDA disclaimer. On whitening, the brand is genuinely careful in a way that deserves notice: "While it does not contain peroxide or whitening agents, hydroxyapatite can help support a polished, smoother tooth surface which may enhance your smile over time." That is the most honestly hedged whitening sentence we have quoted in this series, and other brands could learn from it. The weak spot is one line: "Scientific studies show hydroxyapatite helps strengthen enamel, reduce sensitivity, and support remineralization", with no study named or linked anywhere on the site. Studies of that shape do exist, the Wierichs review we cite below is one, but they studied particular materials at particular particle sizes, mostly in toothpaste, and a citation-free "studies show" invites the reader to transfer that evidence to a composite ingredient whose hydroxyapatite content and size are unstated. Name the studies, and the sentence becomes checkable. As written, it is exactly the kind of claim this blog exists to footnote.

Part 4

Crait against the other hydroxyapatite gums

The fair comparison set is the other dedicated hydroxyapatite gums this blog has reviewed, because that is the shelf a Crait buyer is actually choosing from. Every row below comes from each brand's own published pages, captured in this review series over the past weeks.

Swipe sideways on mobile. Rows reflect each brand's published pages as captured in this review series, August 2026. Full write-ups: CaviChew · Vanman.

Read the rows together and Crait's position is genuinely unusual: it is the only brand in the set that names its supplier, the only one that prints a per-piece dose, and simultaneously the one whose printed dose measures something other than what the front of the pack implies. CaviChew publishes a size and hides its dose; Vanman publishes neither; Crait publishes a dose that turns out to be a composite. Each brand in this category has picked a different number to withhold, and the buyer, standing at the shelf, is expected to notice none of it. The pattern this series keeps finding is that the labels are not lying so much as leaving, and the one habit that would fix all four columns at once, publishing every load-bearing number, is practiced in full by nobody but demanded by this blog of everybody, ourselves included.

The non-nano pitch, handled without a purity contest

Crait's site sells its ingredient partly by contrast. Its non-nano material is framed as "larger, naturally derived particles" that "stay on the enamel surface where it is safe and effective", while competitors' nano-hydroxyapatite is framed as "extremely small synthetic nanoparticles" that "can enter below the enamel surface", with the note that "questions remain about long-term safety in some uses". Since our own gum is one of those competitors, let us respond with the same care we ask of others, in four steps. First: this is a marketing frame, not a research finding, and no citation accompanies it anywhere on Crait's site. Second, on the safety question it gestures at: the EU's Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety has assessed nano-hydroxyapatite as safe for oral care at the ingredient level, a point covered at length in our Underbrush comparison. Third: the research tradition that made hydroxyapatite an oral-care ingredient in the first place, the Wierichs review's ten human studies among them, is substantially built on small-particle materials, so a frame that casts small particles as the suspect ones is arguing against much of the evidence base for the shared ingredient. And fourth, most practically: what serves a buyer is not an adjective contest between "natural" and "synthetic" but numbers, and on numbers, Crait publishes neither its particle size nor its hydroxyapatite fraction. We publish 200 nm and 5.7 mg and let readers decide. We will not argue that nano is better or purer, and we will not attack non-nano as a material; we will only note that "non-nano" is a claim about what a particle is not, and a nanometre figure would say what it is.

The certification lines, stated precisely

Crait's page cites "Ecocert and COSMOS-approved" status and says the gum is "third party tested". Precision matters here, so: Ecocert and COSMOS are real certification schemes, and the approval in question belongs to the supplier's ingredient family, since Omya notes that some grades of its material carry that status. It is an ingredient credential, not a certification of Crait's finished gum, and Crait links no certificate showing which grade its gum uses. "Third party tested" is likewise offered without a certificate, a lab name, a COA or a report anywhere on the site or the listing. Neither line is implausible; contract-manufactured products are routinely tested, and the supplier credential is probably genuine at the ingredient level. But as published, both are claims the buyer is asked to take on faith, and the pattern is the same one this review keeps meeting: the assertion is printed, the paperwork is not. A linked COA would take an afternoon and would put Crait ahead of nearly everyone.

What 397 ratings actually say about the chew

A 4.1-star average across 397 ratings is a solid, believable score, strong enough for an Amazon's Choice badge and weak enough to contain real complaints, and Amazon's own AI-generated review summary, quoted here as Amazon's summary of its reviewers, states the split plainly: "Customers find the gum effective for dental health... while some find it good tasting and with good texture, others report the flavor doesn't last long and describe a weird texture. Moreover, the gum is very hard to chew, tends to crumble at first, and doesn't last long. Additionally, customers consider it not worth the price." Read fairly, that is a portrait of a product whose concept buyers like and whose chew they tolerate: the recurring physical complaints are hardness, early crumbling, fast-fading flavour and a short chew life, and the recurring economic one is price. For a gum, the chew is not a side issue; a piece that gets spat out early is a piece whose active, whatever its fraction, spends less time at the tooth. We cannot diagnose from outside which formulation choice causes the texture pattern, and we will not pretend to. What the ratings establish is simpler: the demand for a high-dose hydroxyapatite gum is real, and the execution still has room between it and its own concept.

How to use it so the real benefits land

Whatever the composite contributes, the verified mechanisms reward timing. Chew after meals and acidic drinks, when plaque acid peaks and the saliva surge pays most; the acid drop after eating is fast and the recovery slow, and a gum chewed at the right moment shortens that window while a randomly timed piece buys little. Note that the xylitol evidence transfers to this product more weakly than to a xylitol-led gum, since xylitol sits fourth on Crait's list behind sorbitol and maltitol, and the Cochrane finding was built on regular exposure to xylitol specifically. And keep the foundation untouched: fluoride brushing twice a day, cleaning between teeth, dentist on schedule. A gum, this one, ours, anyone's, is the supplement between those anchors, never a substitute for any of them.

Part 5

Who Crait is for, and who should wait for one more number

A note on anonymous brands, kept brief. A brand that publishes no founder, no address and no contact route is not thereby a bad actor; plenty of honest products come from companies that simply have not built a public face, and a two-year-old Amazon-native brand skipping the storytelling is a style, not a verdict. But anonymity changes where trust has to live. With a founder-led brand, buyers lend trust to a person; with Crait, the only thing on offer to trust is the label itself, which is why this review has held that label to the letter. To Crait's credit, the label gives more to examine than most. To the buyer's benefit, examination is exactly what it got.

Good fit: the dose-maximiser who understands what the dose is. If you want the largest mineral payload available in a gum, accept that the 70 mg measures a calcium-carbonate-core composite with an unpublished hydroxyapatite share, and are comfortable with a conventional gum base, a sorbitol-led sweetener list and a texture that hundreds of reviewers describe as hard and crumbly at first, Crait is the shelf's maximal option and its buyers are not wrong to like it. It clears the sugar-free baseline, it may deliver a meaningful mineral dose, and its whitening language is more honest than most of the category's. Buying it with open eyes is a perfectly defensible choice.

Wait for one more number if the dose is the reason. The irony of Crait's label is that the buyers it attracts most strongly, the ones choosing by milligrams, are precisely the ones the missing fraction affects most. If 70 mg versus 5.7 mg is your decision logic, then the honest state of the evidence is that one of those numbers measures pure hydroxyapatite and the other measures a composite of unknown proportion, and comparing them directly is arithmetic nobody can currently do. The two-question test this series applies everywhere costs nothing to ask of Crait: what fraction, and what size. A brand that has already printed a dose and a supplier name has shown it understands why numbers sell; answering the follow-up would finish the job. And as every review in this series says in the same words: actual symptoms are a reason to book a dentist, not to upgrade a gum.

The verdict in one line. Crait's gum is the category's boldest label wrapped around its least examined ingredient: a real product with real buyers, more disclosure courage than almost any competitor, and a headline number that, by the supplier's own description, measures a chalk-core composite whose enamel-mineral share nobody publishes. Credit the number, question what it counts, and let the brand's next label revision decide which review this becomes.

Questions, answered

The things people actually ask