Cassia oil’s story stretches back thousands of years, embedded in daily rituals and traditional medicine across Asia. Ancient Chinese texts mention how healers drew the oil from the bark of Cinnamomum cassia to ease discomfort and flavor foods. Beyond China, traders shepherded cassia’s spicy scent along the Silk Road, leading to its role in herbal remedies and religious ceremonies. The West finally took notice in the Middle Ages, as merchants shipped dried bark and precious oil to apothecaries throughout Europe. Every bottle of cassia oil today carries echoes of these traditions, reflecting innovations in distillation while honoring roots in folk wisdom and cross-continental commerce.
Cassia oil comes straight from the bark, leaves, and twigs of Cinnamomum cassia—a tree native to southern China and parts of Southeast Asia. Its aroma stands out with a sweet, spicy punch reminiscent of cinnamon, yet it has a warmth and slight bitterness that signals its own character. People often confuse it with cinnamon oil, but cassia holds a heavier, more robust scent and taste. Producers bottle cassia oil for food products, aromatherapy blends, toiletries, insect repellents, and traditional remedies.
This oil pours as a golden to reddish-brown liquid, carrying a sharp, spicy smell. Its main chemical feature is cinnamaldehyde, making up 80% or more of high-quality oils. You might spot tiny amounts of coumarin, benzaldehyde, or linalool swirling in every drop. The oil resists dissolving in water, favoring alcohol and other oils. Its viscosity and volatility demand care in production and shipping since exposure to air or light speeds up oxidation and weakens both scent and effectiveness. For every batch, producers test the refractive index and optical rotation to confirm purity—that’s how buyers trust what’s on the label.
Reliable suppliers print technical specifications right on labels or datasheets. You’ll find details about the content of cinnamaldehyde (typically 75-90%), density, refractive index, flashpoint, and limits for heavy metals or solvents. Responsible companies provide batch-specific data to trace quality and safety from farm to bottle. Fake or adulterated oils still float around, so checking these numbers and sourcing from known suppliers matters. Regulations from food safety authorities and essential oil standard bodies require clear labeling, including botanical source, extraction method, allergen information, and origin.
Cassia oil extraction starts with wild or cultivated bark, hand-stripped from mature trees. Workers dry and sometimes ferment the bark before steam distillation. The steam physically breaks open plant cells, pushing volatile oil molecules into a condenser. There, water and oil separate into two layers, making collection simple on a commercial scale. Sometimes a vacuum distillation step follows, helping maintain delicate aromas by lowering the boiling point of volatile molecules. Good distillers recycle leftover bark as a soil amendment or animal feed, keeping waste to a minimum.
Most large-scale buyers focus on cinnamaldehyde, so chemists might fine-tune raw cassia oil through distillation or solvent extraction to boost its concentration. Blending offers a way to reduce natural coumarin content, since that compound raises safety questions in excess. In research, chemists modify cinnamaldehyde’s structure to study new flavors or potential pharmaceutical benefits—attaching other chemical groups to explore antimicrobial or anti-inflammatory activities. Oxidation turns the oil’s scent harsh and brown, so manufacturers use antioxidants or nitrogen purging during bottling.
Cassia oil travels through global markets under plenty of names—some accurate, others misleading. The most direct label uses its botanical name, Cinnamomum cassia oil. In some shops, you’ll spot “Chinese cinnamon oil” or “Bastard cinnamon oil.” Chemists may call its main ingredient trans-cinnamaldehyde, and perfumers might list it as “casse oil” or “cassia bark oil.” Sometimes bulk shipments arrive labeled as “cinnamon oil,” confusing buyers and risking misuse in food, cosmetic, or wellness applications.
Safety stands at the core of every step in cassia oil production and handling. Pure cassia oil causes skin and eye irritation, so gloves, masks, and goggles belong in the work area. Industrial facilities install explosion-proof equipment due to the oil’s flammable nature and keep everything clean to avoid fire risks. International rules from organizations like the FDA, EU, and IFRA set strict limits for cassia oil in food and fragrance—especially to keep coumarin exposure low. Packaging must shield the oil from sunlight and oxygen, protecting both workers and the oil itself.
Cassia oil goes into flavorings for confections and baked goods—think spicy hard candies, chewing gum, or seasonal cookies. It flavors some toothpastes and mouthwashes with a warming tingle, and provides an insect-repellent boost in natural sprays. The fragrance industry uses cassia oil in perfumes that call for bold spice notes. Herbalists point to its traditional use in digestive tonics, cough syrups, and massage oils, though science still weighs these claims. Over-the-counter topical rubs use cassia oil for its warming effect, but always in strict dilutions to reduce irritation.
Scientists dig into cassia oil’s antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory properties, testing extracts against bacteria and fungi in both lab dishes and animal models. Some studies examine how its main compound, cinnamaldehyde, disrupts cell walls in common food pathogens and hospital-acquired bugs. Research teams in the pharmaceutical field keep seeking synthetic derivatives—hoping for better activity with less toxicity. Food technologists track how cassia oil stands up to heat and light, improving formulations for shelf-stable snacks or drinks. Agricultural researchers also look for ways to breed higher-yielding cassia trees, or to coax more oil from every harvest.
One concern follows cassia oil everywhere—its high coumarin content. Coumarin easily causes liver toxicity when consumed in large doses, leading European and US agencies to warn against regular, high-intake use in foods. Even in external products, undiluted cassia oil produces irritation, blisters, or allergic reactions, especially in children or those with sensitive skin. Animal studies guide regulatory limits for daily intake, and recent research tracks genetic differences in how humans process coumarin. Reputable producers routinely test and label coumarin content, moving toward safer, standardized oils for foods and supplements.
Cassia oil won’t lose its appeal soon. As consumers demand clean-label flavors and natural scents, demand keeps rising in foods, wellness, and green chemistry labs. Instead of synthetic cinnamon, many brands choose cassia for its rich aroma and traceable story. More growers in Vietnam, Indonesia, and Laos now enter the cassia supply chain, investing in sustainable forestry to keep wild stands healthy. Advances in selective breeding and precision farming could further boost yields while lowering harmful elements like coumarin. In biotechnology, engineered yeast or bacteria may one day “brew” cinnamaldehyde, shaking up how this ancient oil reaches store shelves. Responsible producers, honest labeling, and tighter safety standards shape a bright, transparent future for cassia oil—one where consumers, workers, and forests all win.
Walk into a bakery or a candy factory, and you’ll probably catch a whiff of cassia oil before seeing anything on the production line. The spicy, sweet scent isn’t just for nostalgia; cassia oil flavors all sorts of treats. Confectioners use it for chewy candies, gum, syrups, and sometimes even chocolate. A few drops go a long way to bring a strong cinnamon note that people tend to associate with home baking, especially in colder months.
Food processing isn’t just about taste for cassia oil. It helps suppress bacteria that can spoil products. Cinnamon and its cousin cassia have earned their place in food safety discussions, not just for taste but also because of compounds like cinnamaldehyde, which fights common foodborne microbes. Anyone who reads up on food recalls knows how valuable it is to add a natural layer of defense.
Cassia oil shows up in more than just the kitchen. Skincare enthusiasts and cosmetic chemists lean into its warming, spicy aroma to boost blends for soaps, creams, and oils. The warming quality isn’t just a marketing gimmick, either; the oil brings a slight tingling feeling, which companies pitch as invigorating for massage blends. People concerned about skin sensitivity should always dilute it, though—as with cinnamon bark oil, undiluted cassia oil can cause irritation. That fact highlights how strong nature’s essential oils can be, for better and for worse.
Long before it appeared in mass-produced products, cassia oil played a role in folk medicine. Herbalists use it mostly for stomach complaints, like gas and minor cramps, drawing on centuries of practice from China and Southeast Asia. Some people say it warms the body and helps fight off certain colds or infections. Studies have looked at its antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties with mixed results, but the continued attention in both modern and traditional settings suggests something is going on that’s worth closer scientific follow-up.
At home, people turn to cassia oil to freshen rooms or clean surfaces. Oil diffusers and homemade cleaners both tap into the strong scent and the reputed antifungal and antibacterial punch. During winter or the holidays, those cinnamon scents quickly fill a room with warmth. Some friends tell me they’ll add a few drops to vinegar-based spray bottles, using it as a greener cleaning boost that leaves a spicy scent behind. Market trends confirm this: essential oils popping up in aisles where shelves once only held bleach or synthetic air fresheners.
Natural doesn’t always mean harmless. Cassia oil falls into the “use with care” category. Its potency means that ingesting large doses or applying it straight to the skin causes unwanted reactions—and in some cases, real harm. Following clear labeling, adhering to dosage guidelines, and using a high-quality oil (from a trusted producer, not just any online discount) all matter. Regulatory agencies, including the FDA, outline specific uses and concentrations for food and topical products for good reason.
As demand for natural flavors and wellness products keeps rising, honest information about cassia oil will only become more important. It’s not just a flavor or a scent—it’s an ingredient that deserves understanding and respect, both for its benefits and its risks.
Cassia oil comes from the bark of the Cinnamomum cassia tree, sharing a close family tie with common cinnamon. This oil carries a bold, spicy scent and flavor. People who love strong flavors often reach for cassia to add character to baked goods, candies, or drinks. Some traditional remedies even swear by its warming touch for soothing upset stomachs or fighting off colds.
Not all natural ingredients lead to safe snacks or drinks. Safety depends on the chemical makeup of the oil and how much someone eats. Cassia oil, in particular, brings coumarin into the mix—a natural compound that attracts attention. Coumarin pops up in both cassia and “true” cinnamon (Ceylon cinnamon). Research published by the European Food Safety Authority in 2008 found cassia packs a heavier coumarin punch than Ceylon, sometimes as much as 1,200 to 4,000 mg per kilo of bark. Ceylon leans closer to 2-90 mg per kilo.
Coumarin does more than add to flavor. High doses over several weeks can trigger liver issues or interact badly with blood-thinning medicine. In Germany, for example, regulators set guidelines for maximum coumarin in food. Anyone who eats a lot of cinnamon-sprinkled oatmeal or cassia-flavored desserts could easily tip past those limits if they aren't careful.
Local authorities and big watchdogs like the FDA in the United States keep a sharp eye on what goes onto plates and into glasses. The FDA includes Cassia oil on its “generally recognized as safe” (GRAS) list for flavoring in small amounts. In other words, a drop or two in a big recipe won’t break any rules. Using it straight or in much larger amounts, though, sends up red flags.
Cassia oil’s widespread use in the spice and flavoring industry doesn’t always tell the whole story. People from cultures with long traditions of herbal medicine might use it in ways far outside standard recipes. Herbalists sometimes mix it into teas or remedies, trusting wisdom handed down over generations. These habits deserve respect but also raise questions when they cross into riskier territory.
I once experimented with making cinnamon oil-infused honey after reading about its supposedly healthy kick. I used a recipe from an old book calling for cassia oil, thinking more must be better. Just a few drops overwhelmed the honey and left my mouth burning for hours. Friends who sampled it had no problem in tiny amounts, though some said they felt odd after a spoonful.
Taking too much cassia oil is easy if you go by taste alone. The flavor fools people into thinking it's safe, yet coumarin can build up in the body with steady use. The American Botanical Council has warned that essential oils, including cassia, pose toxicity risks if taken internally without expert guidance.
People passionate about big, bold spices can enjoy cassia safely in moderation. Buying Ceylon cinnamon cuts down on exposure to coumarin if you’re sprinkling cinnamon daily. If you want the special bite of cassia in baking or candy-making, stick with the low-dose flavoring oils meant for food—not undiluted essential oil from health stores.
Those with liver troubles, kids, pregnant people, and anyone taking medications should check with a healthcare provider before adding cassia oil to anything they eat or drink. These conversations help avoid preventable harm. Labels on oils often show warnings—never ignore those.
Education goes a long way. Sharing what you’ve learned with others makes it easier to celebrate bold flavors without paying a price in health. Reach for quality, trust the science, and don’t be afraid to ask questions about what’s in your food.
Spend enough time in spice shops or browsing essential oils and the labels start to blur: cinnamon oil, cassia oil. Most folks figure they’re the same. They both smell like a cinnamon bun, seem to do similar things in aromatherapy, and nobody really stops to question it. But take a closer look, and the difference between the two actually matters — for flavor, for health, and, if you care about sustainability, for the world.
Cinnamon oil, to the specialists, means oil pressed or distilled from Cinnamomum verum (sometimes called “true cinnamon” or “Ceylon cinnamon”). Cassia oil usually traces back to Cinnamomum cassia, mostly grown in China and sometimes labeled Chinese cinnamon. Both spring from the bark of their respective trees. Their aroma shares spicy warmth, but side by side, you’ll pick out sharp, almost bitter notes from cassia, while true cinnamon gives off a gentler, sweeter scent. Working in kitchens and food manufacturing, the distinction shapes everything from baked goods to candy — the wrong oil warps familiar flavors.
Beyond the fragrance, the biggest split comes down to chemistry. Cassia oil packs a punch, loaded with a compound called coumarin. Too much coumarin taxes the liver and, in high doses, causes real harm. European food regulations already flagged this; Ceylon cinnamon contains much less. Buying a cheap “cinnamon oil” at a discount store almost guarantees you’re getting cassia — this matters for children and people with sensitive livers. I’ve met people with unexplained headaches or discomfort who traced it back to adding grocery-store “cinnamon” in DIY remedies, not realizing it was potent cassia. Facts like these changed how I buy my own spices and oils.
The labels rarely help consumers. In the United States, cinnamon could legally mean either species. Cassia dominates shelf space because it flavors boldly and costs far less, but most buyers never get told what they're really using. Some companies cut essential oils or culinary ingredients with cassia not out of malice, but cost pressure. It’s easy for shoppers to assume a whiff of “cinnamon” always means the gentle, classic spice in their oatmeal as a kid, not realizing they’re sprinkling something much rougher and more concentrated. The only way to know is checking Latin names—or buying from truly transparent sources.
Transparency fixes some of these headaches. Clear labeling on products could help families pick the right option for their needs. Public education, especially for parents, matters if they’re using essential oils at home; brands ought to share more about direct sourcing. As more studies pile up about coumarin exposure, a shift toward true cinnamon could ease health worries, even if it pinches margins for some suppliers. Sustainable growing practices and partnerships with small farmers can also help: real Ceylon cinnamon flourishes best in places where the culture and climate align. Supporting producers who care about quality and environment means safer, richer spice cabinets for everyone.
Cassia oil often shows up on health blogs and DIY wellness sites. It smells sweet and spicy, almost like cinnamon, but it’s a member of a different plant family. Folks use it on their skin, in diffusers, and even sometimes in food. Most people look at the buzz around “natural” remedies and assume risk fades away if it’s plant-based. That's just not true with Cassia oil.
Let’s talk about skin reactions. If you try undiluted Cassia oil straight on your skin, the result gets ugly fast. The oil contains cinnamaldehyde—a compound that fires up red, itching, stinging patches. This isn’t rare or just a problem for people with allergies. Even folks without sensitive skin report rashes and burns. Dilution helps, but even mixed with carrier oils like coconut or almond, some people end up with blisters or swelling. According to the National Institutes of Health, direct application can push your body into contact dermatitis territory—a fancy phrase for skin that’s mad at you.
Inhaling Cassia oil vapor sends molecules straight into your lungs, so it packs a punch. For some, the smell stirs up memories of holidays and baked goods. For others, it can set off sneezing, coughing, and headaches. Asthma and allergy sufferers definitely face a tougher time. Studies published in scientific journals confirm that essential oil diffusers, especially those with spicy compounds like cinnamaldehyde, ramp up airway inflammation in sensitive people. If your house has kids, elderly family, or someone with breathing issues—think twice before making the whole place smell like spiced pie.
Even small doses swallowed on purpose can trigger problems. Some diets circulating online talk up “internal cleansing” and Cassia oil, but these routines usually forget about toxicity. The FDA labels Cassia oil as safe in tiny amounts for food flavoring, but it doesn’t mean safe for daily ingestion. Too much can burn the mouth and throat, cause nausea, or even throw off your liver function. Doctors in emergency rooms sometimes see folks with bleeding problems because Cassia oil’s high coumarin content thins the blood. That’s a big concern for anyone already on blood thinners or who struggles with clotting disorders.
People who take medication for diabetes or blood pressure should watch out. Cassia oil compounds drop blood sugar, sometimes too far. This sounds helpful until you end up dizzy, lightheaded, or worse. When your medication lowers your levels already, layering Cassia oil onto the mix simply makes you more likely to crash. The same goes for blood pressure—Cassia oil can cause it to dip, increasing the risk for fainting spells.
Natural doesn’t always mean safe. The smartest way to handle Cassia oil comes down to respect for dose, awareness of personal health conditions, and talking to a healthcare provider before regular use. Here’s what actually helps: Test any essential oil using a patch on your skin with plenty of carrier oil; always keep it away from eyes, mucous membranes, and sensitive areas. Never swallow concentrated Cassia oil, especially without medical supervision. If you love using essential oils but get allergies or headaches, take a break and figure out which scents trigger you. Safety with Cassia oil isn’t about swearing off plants; it’s about common sense and honest conversations with experts.
Cassia oil comes from the bark of the Cinnamomum cassia tree, a cousin to regular cinnamon. Many folks swear by its warm, spicy scent, which reminds some people of cinnamon sticks during the holidays. In Asia, healers added cassia to balms and oils for centuries, hoping to help with aches, digestion, or cold symptoms. That history shaped how people today look at cassia as more than just a kitchen spice.
Aromatherapists chase after cassia for the lift its scent brings. That spicy aroma triggers nostalgia for some, and a feeling of comfort for others. Clinical research does show the main component—cinnamaldehyde—holds antibacterial and antifungal qualities. In animal studies, cassia oil helped fight certain strains of bacteria. People dab a diluted bit on their wrists or blend it for diffusing, hoping for a boost in mood or to freshen the air at home. It costs less than true cinnamon oil, so budget-minded fans often turn to cassia instead.
My own first brush with cassia oil taught me an important lesson: it can bite if you aren't careful. I dabbed some on a tissue to sniff and moments later noticed my skin stinging. Pure cassia oil feels harsh and burns fast. The same punch that makes its scent strong also brings a high risk of irritation. Dermatologists rank it as an irritant and even seasoned aromatherapists warn to never use it undiluted or in large amounts. For many, a gentle oil like lavender turns out to be safer and more reassuring.
Research from the International Fragrance Association and skin safety boards recommends heavy dilution—no more than one drop per ounce of carrier oil for topical blends. Many folks skip using cassia oil altogether for kids and pregnant women. Pets are even more sensitive. For anyone diffusing it at home, a window cracked open and a timer help prevent the air from feeling overwhelming. Even in small doses, secure storage keeps kids and pets safe.
Trust in a bottle can be hard to come by. Some less reputable sellers pass off low-grade, synthetic blends as “all-natural.” Labels often exaggerate health benefits. I look for suppliers who show current safety tests, chemical compositions, and origin details. Reputable brands post these online or offer reports. If you can’t find out where an oil comes from, it’s probably better to leave it on the shelf.
Education changes the game. Aromatherapists and sellers need to make side effects and dilution rates clearer on labels and in classes. Online communities and health care providers help people understand what comes with oils like cassia. Alternatives, such as sweet orange or chamomile, give similar comfort with far less risk. People deserve both honesty and options.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | (2E)-3-phenylprop-2-enal |
| Other names |
Cassia Bark Oil Chinese Cinnamon Oil Cinnamomum Cassia Oil |
| Pronunciation | /ˈkæsiə ɔɪl/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | (2E)-3-phenylprop-2-enal |
| Other names |
Cassia bark oil Chinese cinnamon oil Cinnamomum cassia oil |
| Pronunciation | /ˈkæsi.ə ɔɪl/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 8007-80-5 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1722763 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:34969 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1590406 |
| ChemSpider | 24607 |
| DrugBank | DB14093 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03d5dce6-70e3-44da-94b9-5d0f4c1fc168 |
| EC Number | 3.1.1.4 |
| Gmelin Reference | Gm. 3257 |
| KEGG | C01744 |
| MeSH | D002246 |
| PubChem CID | 5281570 |
| RTECS number | GC8300000 |
| UNII | 3G6O16ULM7 |
| UN number | UN2785 |
| CAS Number | 8007-80-5 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1840715 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:22732 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1312957 |
| ChemSpider | 5471177 |
| DrugBank | DB11025 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.028.241 |
| EC Number | 3.4.21.62 |
| Gmelin Reference | 7850 |
| KEGG | C01744 |
| MeSH | D002353 |
| PubChem CID | 91770 |
| RTECS number | CX8380000 |
| UNII | 3G1S0U399U |
| UN number | UN3332 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | CAMS-000920 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C10H12O2 |
| Molar mass | Molar mass: 222.37 g/mol |
| Appearance | Yellowish brown liquid |
| Odor | Warm, spicy, cinnamon-like |
| Density | 0.940 - 0.960 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | 2.6 |
| Acidity (pKa) | 10.2 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 8.8 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.614 - 1.619 |
| Viscosity | Viscous |
| Dipole moment | 2.82 D |
| Chemical formula | C10H12O2 |
| Molar mass | 298.46 g/mol |
| Appearance | Cassia Oil is a yellowish brown to reddish brown liquid. |
| Odor | Warm, spicy, cinnamon-like |
| Density | 0.950 - 0.970 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | 2.1 |
| Acidity (pKa) | 11.75 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.5040 to 1.5060 |
| Viscosity | Viscous liquid |
| Dipole moment | 2.8129 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 393.12 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -5675.5 kJ/mol |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 395.5 J/mol·K |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -5898.6 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A01AD11 |
| ATC code | A03AB07 |
| Hazards | |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS08 |
| Pictograms | Flame, Exclamation Mark, Health Hazard |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H226, H302, H304, H315, H317, H319, H411 |
| Precautionary statements | P210, P233, P240, P241, P242, P243, P261, P264, P271, P273, P280, P301+P310, P302+P352, P303+P361+P353, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P312, P321, P330, P333+P313, P337+P313, P362+P364, P370+P378, P391, P403+P235, P405, P501 |
| Flash point | 100°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 120°C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD₅₀ (oral, rat): 2,710 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): 3450 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | NIOSH: FG0440000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for Cassia Oil: Not established |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.05% |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Unknown |
| GHS labelling | **GHS labelling of Cassia Oil:** "GHS02, GHS05, GHS07, GHS08 |
| Pictograms | GHS02, GHS07 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Precautionary statements | P264, P280, P301+P310, P302+P352, P305+P351+P338, P321, P330, P332+P313, P362, P370+P378, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | NFPA 704: 2-2-0 |
| Flash point | 200 °F (93.3 °C) |
| Autoignition temperature | 260°C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD₅₀ oral rat 2,790 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | Oral rat LD50: 2,980 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | KIY83570 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 500 mg/m³ |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.05 |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Cinnamon oil Cinnamaldehyde Eugenol Clove oil Coumarin |
| Related compounds |
Cinnamaldehyde Cinnamic acid Cinnamyl alcohol Eugenol Coumarin |