Today, cinnamon is easy to find – a small jar, a modest price, a familiar scent drifting from kitchens and cafes. Yet this everyday spice was once among the most valuable substances on Earth.
Long before it found its way into kitchen jars, cinnamon was one of the most desired substances in the world. For centuries, nobody outside the spice trade really knew where cinnamon came from. But more than 4,000 years ago, Cinnamomum verum was already travelling far from home.
Ancient Egyptians imported it as early as 2000 BC, using it to preserve mummies and burn in sacred rituals. To them, cinnamon wasn’t food; it was holy. This spice was so precious back then that it was offered to gods and kings. Temples received cinnamon as gifts and rulers used it to show their power. Owning it meant you had connections, money and influence.
To protect that power, traders spun wild tales. Cinnamon, they said, grew in Arabia and was guarded by winged serpents. Others claimed giant birds stole cinnamon sticks from distant lands to build their nests, and humans had to risk their lives to retrieve them. The stories were believed. After all, something so rare and costly had to come from a dangerous, magical place.
In Roman times, cinnamon remained a luxury beyond imagination. When Emperor Nero’s wife died in AD 65, he burned an entire year’s supply of cinnamon at her funeral. It was a gesture of grief but also a public display of immense wealth.
Even through the Middle Ages, cinnamon’s true origin remained blurred. European knowledge came mostly from ancient texts. Latin writers, citing Herodotus, described cinnamon arriving through the Red Sea to Egyptian ports. When Sieur de Joinville accompanied King Louis IX of France to Egypt during the Seventh Crusade in 1248, he recorded what he was told: that cinnamon was gathered in nets at the source of the Nile, at the edge of the world.
Gradually, myth gave way to understanding. By the 13th century, scholars and explorers began connecting the dots. Cinnamon trees thrived in warm, tropical regions, particularly India and Sri Lanka. The spice itself varied. True cinnamon, prized for its softness and delicate sweetness, came from Sri Lanka. Cassia, stronger and more robust, originated mainly from China and Southeast Asia. Both varieties travelled the world, shaping cuisines and commerce for centuries.
Today, cinnamon is everywhere. In coffee. In cakes. In curries. It feels simple now. Familiar. Almost forgettable. Yet when its gentle aroma fills the air, it still carries the memory of a time when this humble spice was sacred, mythical, and worth its weight in gold.
