There was a time when cinnamon felt endless — a quiet constant in kitchens, drifting through sweet buns, slow stews, and spiced tea. But behind that familiar warmth, the story has been shifting. Across Sri Lanka and Indonesia, the flow of cinnamon has slowed, not with a single cause, but through a gathering of pressures that are as human as they are natural.

The trees themselves are feeling the change. Rainfall arrives differently now, seasons blur, and the delicate process of harvesting bark becomes less predictable. Cinnamon cannot simply be cut and collected — it must be coaxed, timed, and handled with care. When the rhythm of nature shifts, so too does the yield, and what once came steadily now arrives in smaller, more uncertain waves.

Yet perhaps the deeper change lies in the hands behind the harvest. True cinnamon, especially from Sri Lanka, is a craft — peeled by skilled workers who have learned the trade over years. But fewer are stepping into that role. Younger generations are choosing different paths, and with them, a quiet knowledge risks fading. Without those hands, even healthy trees cannot become the cinnamon we know.

At the same time, the world is asking for more 8-12% annually. Cinnamon is no longer just a cupboard staple; it’s woven into wellness, perfumery, and global cuisine. Demand rises, while supply tightens — and so the balance shifts. This is where Vietnam enters the story. Somewhere between Cassia and Ceylon, can be used as a substitute for either or in authentic cooking, and more readily available. Not a replacement, but a continuation… a reminder that even as traditions evolve, the journey of flavour always finds a way forward.

Enjoy this weeks flavours Steve and the Spice Team

Garlic was once a spice to be kept at a distance. Its smell lingered too long, spoke too loudly, and refused to behave. In parts of Europe it was barred from temples, courts, and polite society, believed to offend gods and unsettle the refined. To eat garlic was to risk being judged — marked by scent as much as by class.

Yet in kitchens, it never disappeared. Garlic stayed close to the fire, passed from hand to hand, trusted by those who cooked for love of food rather than approval, becoming one of the most relied-upon flavours in the world — proof that some ingredients survive not by permission, but by necessity.

Love or Hate Spice Flavours, enjoy all this week, Steve and the Spice Team

We were grinding an East African pepper blend the other day and it reminded me of a question we get asked a lot — can you source more African spices?

Sometimes we can. Quite often we can’t, and it’s usually not down to a lack of quality or care at source. A lot of it comes down to modern food regulations. In some regions the soil is naturally high in certain metals, which is part of what gives the spice its character, but it also means it doesn’t meet UK or EU food standards. In other cases, traditional drying or storage methods don’t line up with what’s required here.

It’s frustrating, because Africa has an incredible depth of flavour — far more than what usually makes it into Western kitchens. There are blends and single spices used daily across the continent that most of us will never cook with.

I guess some flavours are best left at home, where the soil, climate, and people make them what they are.

Enjoy this weeks world of flavours, Steve and the Spice Team

Traditional Galette des Rois (Epiphany King Cake)