Before there was licorice, pistachio lozenges, halwah or baclava; before horehound, molasses taffy or any of the most ancient forms of sweets, for me, there was cinnamon. In our blufftop village above the sacred Brahmaputra river in northeast India they called it ‘dal seyni’ (bark sugar). I would pull weeds in the yard for hours blistering my hands to earn a few annas – enough to buy a small bag of cinnamon stick at the Marwari shop down the road. Clutching the coins, I would dash into the bazaar past a giant tamarind tree as neighbors shouted gaily, ‘boga bandor’ (white monkey)! (They could spot addictive behavior when they saw it.) Then my chum Lokhi – whose father was a certified opium addict – and I would climb into a leafy tree and hidden there like two primates above the fray devour the bark of this singular tree spice. The experience was imprinting, swarming all the senses – its fiery-sweet taste, its aroma, its rich brown-red color, its primal texture of bark: authentic in the extreme. And the bag, now empty, would leave us wondering when fortune might smile on us again.
So powerful and pleasing is this mysterious spice that the ancient Egyptians sent their most eminent dead to the nether world embalmed in cinnamon. Would there be any more elegant way for a Pharaoh to be wafted to the great beyond? The lore at the time led one to believe that cinnamon was so exquisite and rare because the keepers of its secret source dredged it up from the depths of the sea. Later, Magellan and his ilk girdled the earth in search of this treasure-spice of kings and queens.
As blind luck would have it, I wakened to life in the lap of the cinnamon world Magellan went to find. Map the historic home of cinnamon – Indonesia, Vietnam, Burma/Myanmar, Bangladesh, Malabar, Sri Lanka/Ceylon, – and my childhood cradle in Assam, India rocks in the heart of that spiceland. What makes this craving even more inescapable for me is a Scandinavian family tree whose bark, I suspect, possesses this very same aroma. From the kitchens of such an inheritance come pans of bread, cakes and cookies trailing that warmth of cinnamon, especially during the winter holiday season. Even the favorite mulled drink of a Scandinavian Christmas, ‘glogg’, comes festooned with a quill of cinnamon. As I follow obediently down this fragrant path, I find myself so exacting in producing my own annual batch of King Oscar spice cookies that I cannot bring myself to use the depleted ground cinnamon from the supermarket spice shelves. I go to the local Indian specialty store ‘down the road’ to find bags of cinnamon stick to grind in our own kitchen, in an adult replay of an addictive childhood dream. The fresh ground powder is evocative enough to waft me back into the arms of a blufftop tree above a faraway sacred river.
So heady and intoxicating is this reverie, I imagine there may have been a slight bump in the transmission of our ancient story of the season, a bump that deserves correction: that the mysterious figures ‘from the East’ who, by the leading of a curious star, came with gifts to that mountain town in honor of a child; gifts of gold, myrrh and – cinnamon.
Barbara Scott says
Cinnamon helps reduce cholesterol. It’s the best spice for almost every kind of anything! Thanks, Jonathan.
Jonathan Larson says
Yes, Barbara – you’ve said it elegantly. Most persuasively, it engenders wonder and happiness. And that is next door to heaven.
Pat Hostetter Martin says
Jonathan, your writing is as addictive as cinnamon!!
Cinnamon trees are common in Quang Ngai province in Vietnam where we lived for five years during the war. Not only is it used to spice food, locals make boxes and other handicrafts, some of which are sold by Ten Thousand Villages.
Jonathan Larson says
Where do I book my trip to Quang Ngai province? Would you be my guide? I recall that an earlier generation used to travel with ‘cedar chests’, coveting the evergreen fragrance they lent to a wardrobe. Now we can dream of rollaways lined with cinnamon? Now that’s the last word in travel extravagance, Pat! Shalom, shalom!
Jake Harms says
I like cinnamon. I like it on rice, apple pie, cookies, etc. I love your descriptive writing.
Jonathan Larson says
Hi, Jake! I suspected that we were fundamentally related. To share a love for cinnamon makes us next of kin, without any doubt. A fragrant, blissful season to you and yours!
James Neuhouser says
I had cinnamon with my oatmeal but it was the old dry stuff. Is cinnamon related to frankincense?
Gann Herman says
I’d love to taste your King Oscar spice cookies, Jonathan! My mother’s snickerdoodles, made only at Christmas time, were sprinkled with cinnamon, but in Fairbanks, Alaska only the cans of ground cinnamon were available to her so I can only imagine how delectable your childhood was!
Jonathan Larson says
I can’t think of any place in the world where cinnamon would be such a welcome whiff of life than Fairbanks!
David Neufeld says
Hi. Great to hear your voice again. Yes. As a diabetic, I rely on cinnamon for that sweet-like flavour that stands in or at least reduces considerably my intake of sweetener – primarily in porridge and baking. The curious thing is, that in my experience one CANNOT take even a half teaspoon of cinnamon in ones mouth and manage to swallow it. That you spent a considerable portion of your precious childhood chewing on bark, gets me thinking that the powdering of it not only destroys a large part of its flavour but also overwhelms the saliva glands. Thoughts?
Jonathan Larson says
David – lovely to see your note! The resort to cinnamon while dealing with diabetes is such a bitter-sweet story! Though as some wag once said, ‘If you want to live a long life, develop a chronic failing and take good care of yourself.’ It sounds like you’re on your way to that reward. You’re right that the modern processing of cinnamon (and many other spices such as clove) has robbed it of its full powers. In summary – if you want the real deal, go to the source!
Spencer Bradford says
Jonathan, Renee and I for many years have generously seasoned our ground coffee daily with cinnamon before brewing. It makes the beverage best!
Jonathan Larson says
That counts as a breakthrough, Spencer! The lift of that will carry you joyfully through most any day!
Shirley Hershey Showalter says
I love the image of you as a “boga bandor” in the trees. The smell of cinnamon, even before the taste, must take you back to a childhood in India. You were born into the riches of the senses.
Wishing you a mug of hot chocolate and a cinnamon stick to stir and eat!
Jonathan Larson says
Hello, Shirley! Glad to see your welcome note! This is such a cozy thought – a quill of cinnamon in that mug of chocolate, that other tropical extravagance. Maybe we should add that hot apple cider also marries nicely with that wonder spice.
Don Holsinger says
Evocative post Jonathan. Thanks. I’m sitting here with a steaming mug of cinnamon spice tea, enhanced with honey, a perfect remedy for my first bout with covid!
Jonathan Larson says
Hello, Don! Desole to hear that you have a touch of the virus! But the restorative powers of your cinnamon tea should put the world to right before long! Clears the brain fog in short order. Shalom!
Steve Van Rooy says
Nice!
Did you know that just below Dhobi ghat (on the way to Witches Hill), on the east side, there were cinnamon trees? A bit spindly but cinnamon for sure. We used to take off strips of the barks off but careful not to ring the tree. Great memories.
Jonathan Larson says
Hey, Steve! Bless you for sparing those cinnamon saplings! How poetic that they have taken possession of a corner of Witches’ Hill! Had no idea! May they continue to thrive! Thanks again for the kind favor you offered in expediting the haiku books!
Jay Goering says
Jonathon, cinnamon is an important part of Linda’s and my life as well. Linda gets her cinnamon from specialty stores that have freshly ground cinnamon from a variey of different places. Her favorite is Vietnamese cinnamon. She bakes cinnamon rolls for farmers market and many people buy hers rather than from others.
We just returned from a visit to Kenya where we visited a student of mine when I was teaching there in the 60’s and 70’s. He had come to Bethel College from 73 to 77. He was the Best Man at our wedding in 75. We had a great time and they then traveled with us as we visited some tourist spots. It was good to mbe back in Africa again.
Jonathan Larson says
Hi, Jay! What Linda has acquired after sampling the spectrum of cinnamon nuances is precious stuff! Not everyone has such cultivated taste! But apparently the farmers of central Kansas agree with the secrets she has mastered! Some happy day I’ll be standing in line at her booth. I’ve heard that parts of East Africa now cultivate cinnamon trees.
Jessie says
Ah, the spices of our youth (our spicy youth?) While I like cinnamon immensely, the two spices I return to the most are ginger and cardamom. Spicy hot ginger predominates in my apple pies, curries and stir fries. Cardamom adds a floral, sweet and slightly citrusy flavor to my oatmeal, pancakes, muffins not to mention curries and rice dishes.
Jonathan Larson says
Hi, Jessie! Yes, we need a necklace of the fantasies that all these spices have conjured for us. Where would we be without ginger and cardamom – two pillars holding up the world of masala chai, not to mention stir fry delights and Scandinavian breads! Isn’t it Marcel Proust who has written a series of seven novels all springing from the sensual pleasure of baking bread? This is that season when we ride the magic carpet of filigree recollection!
Ron` Goertzen says
Such an enjoyable entry uplifting cinnamon! I’ll be using some in baking peppernuts this month! Thank you for sharing your writings.
Linda` Goertzen says
Such an enjoyable entry uplifting cinnamon! I’ll be using some in baking peppernuts this month! Thank you for sharing your writings.
Mike Klaus says
Scrolling through these myriad comments, it’s evident you touched a sweet nerve with this post, JP! Both of my alternate-day breakfasts (oatmeal, and a 14-ingredient concoction with yogurt, kefir, and fruits), rely on that versatile spice on which you wax so eloquently.
Tom Rice says
Walking back from Dodi Tal I walked through a cinnamon forest.
Jonathan Larson says
Hello, Tom! Now there’s a fairy tale forest if I ever heard of one! Sufficient to suffuse with fragrance an entire lifetime!
Katie Jo says
Thanks for bringing a wonderful waft of cinnamon into the alumni office, Jonathan! It also made me think of the cinnamon challenge in which kids filmed themselves trying to eat a heaping tablespoon of cinnamon powder…don’t suppose you did that…. 🙂
Jonathan Larson says
Hi, Katie Jo! That alumni garret is a sacred corner! Yes – an adolescent prank that resulted in numerous trips to the ER! But you’ve got to say, these were young folk of refined taste! Had I not been cradled in an Indian river valley, I suspect I would have been numbered in their midst. There but for the grace of God …