Spice traders once sailed treacherous waters for a handful of cloves. Locals in the Maluku Islands, or Spice Islands, called them "mother nature's medicine," and for good reason. Archaeologists found clove remnants in pottery in Syria, dating back to 1700 BC, well before galleons and steamships made global spice trade routine. In medieval Europe, cloves carried as much value as gold, playing a role in shaping entire economies. They even ignited colonial wars when the Dutch tried to control the precious spice fields. The traditions stuck—families in Indonesia still use cloves to flavor traditional preparations, both in the kitchen and for ritual. These roots remind us that every bottle of clove oil on a pharmacist’s shelf or every jar in the pantry carries centuries of gardening, conflict, exploration, and curiosity.
Most folks think of cloves as those prickly brown buds stuck in holiday hams, but the plant’s uses stretch far beyond the dinner table. Clove, from the Syzygium aromaticum tree, produces flower buds picked long before blooming, then sun-dried to a deep brown. Oil extracted through steam distillation offers a potent punch—deep, spicy aroma, a numbing tingle on the tongue, and fiery warmth. Bakers, perfumers, and dentists see a staple, not a novelty, in that little spice jar. Markets carry whole and ground cloves, but pharmaceutical shelves load up on clove oil for tooth pain and mouthwash, all rooted in that sharp, unmistakable scent.
Reddish-brown and slightly oily, the whole buds crush easily between your fingers, releasing a heady, almost medicinal cloud. Chew one and you get that signature tingling: it’s the eugenol. Chemical analysis shows clove oil hits about 70%–85% eugenol, which gives it antiseptic and analgesic action. Other constituents—acetyl eugenol, beta-caryophyllene, vanillin—shape aroma and action. Melting starts around a modest 59°C, while density falls near 1.04 g/cm³. Taste packs depth: pungent, bitter, and gently sweet, with a camphorous edge. Odor can fill a room even when used sparingly. Volatility matters; clove oil evaporates in open air, concentrating its warmth and fragrance.
Exporters, especially in Indonesia, Zaire, and Madagascar, keep eyes on quality control. Packaging often features airtight containers—glass or aluminum—since light and air degrade quality fast. Most regulatory bodies require food-grade clove to hit certain benchmarks: moisture must stay low (under 13%), oil content above 15%, eugenol percentages clearly listed. Safety labels say “flammable” on bulk clove oil drums, and storage guidelines always stress cool, dark spaces. Retail clove products list botanical origin, processing date, and batch information, making traceability easier for those tracking contamination or adulteration. Purity certifications—like ISO, HACCP, and sometimes organic—show up on premium brands, while ordinary spice rack jars get simple food-safe stamps.
Harvesters pick unopened flower buds by hand—a labor-intensive process. After drying them in the sun to lock in flavor and reduce water, some undergo mechanical grinding, while finer grades find their way to essential oil distillation units. Steam vapor passes through the buds, carrying volatile oils, which cold condense to separate the valuable eugenol-rich liquid. Both smallholder farmers and large processors use almost nothing but water, heat, and patience to coax out the best qualities. In home kitchens, toasting in a warm pan brings out extra sweetness before grinding, while traditional medicine prefers infusions or tinctures, soaking cloves in alcohol or vinegar to extract hard-hitting flavors and benefits.
Industrial chemists work wonders with eugenol. Simple oxidation changes eugenol into vanillin, a major flavor additive for foods and perfumes, showing how flexible clove oil can be in a chemist’s hands. Reaction with acetic anhydride produces acetyl eugenol, used in fragrances. Scientists also modify its molecular structure to chase new medicines, including local anesthetics and anti-inflammatory agents. Hydrogenation, or reaction with hydrogen, tames some of clove’s pungency while creating intermediates for plastics and fine chemicals. These tweaks show up in labs and factories worldwide, where the boundaries between old-world spice trade and modern chemistry blur.
Every culture seems to have its own name for clove—“cengkeh” in Indonesia, “clavo de olor” in Latin America, “laung” in South Asia. Latin labels—Syzygium aromaticum or Eugenia caryophyllus—help chemists speak a common language. Commercial products can appear as “whole clove,” “ground clove,” “clove stem,” or “clove oil.” In perfumery and food industries, eugenol stands apart from raw clove oil. Some cleaning agents mask their clove base under names like “natural antimicrobial oil,” helping customers worried about synthetic additives.
Clove oil feels gentle on sore gums, but experts issue clear guidelines. High concentrations on skin cause irritation or burns, and health authorities warn against over-application, especially with infants. The FDA allows clove oil as a flavor, but pure doses remain under scrutiny for internal use outside medical settings. Handling bulk quantities demands gloves and goggles—spilled oil stings eyes and cuts. Factories handling eugenol for perfumes and chemicals install ventilation and fire suppression, as vapors can ignite under the wrong conditions. Labeling systems warn handlers about potential allergic reactions. Storage rules—cool, dark, and dry—prevent spoilage and oxidation, keeping the oil within safe limits. Food safety watchdogs test for heavy metals and adulterants, while firms exporting overseas navigate layers of customs paperwork, laboratory testing, and traceability back to growing regions.
Years ago, my grandmother tucked a few cloves in her sugar jar to chase away ants. Today, I see clove scattered across an even wider range: pharmacies use it in dental gels and oral sprays; bakers stir it into spice cakes; homeopathic doctors mix it into tinctures; perfumeries build entire lines around its warmth; veterinarians add clove extract to mouth rinse for pets. Pesticide makers load it into natural repellents, targeting garden pests with minimal chemical use. Artisans craft pomanders—clove-studded oranges—to freshen drawers and closets. The antibacterial bite of eugenol also finds a place in mouthwashes and hand soaps. That familiar aroma turns up even in cigarette blends and ancient incense traditions.
Researchers zero in on eugenol’s bioactivity, testing its roles as an antioxidant, antimicrobial, and anti-inflammatory agent. Journals detail how clove extract slows dental cavity formation, suppresses fungal growth, and shows promise against antibiotic-resistant bacteria. Scientists combine eugenol with other plant extracts to strengthen their effects and reduce side impacts. Laboratories run trials on new emulsions for longer shelf-lives and higher flavor retention, hoping to expand use in difficult food matrices. In nanotechnology, engineers use clove oil-loaded nanoparticles to target infection sites. Collaborations across botany, pharmacology, and food science spark innovation—these teams race to unlock clove’s secrets for agriculture, medicine, and green chemistry.
Every plant with medicinal power brings risks. Swallowing whole teaspoons of clove oil can trigger liver damage, says the World Health Organization. Eugenol proves toxic to lab rodents at high doses, causing breathing difficulties and organ problems—reminders that nature’s remedies demand respect. Common side effects include gastrointestinal upset, especially on empty stomachs. Inhalation of concentrated fumes causes coughing, even in healthy adults. Allergic reactions, though rare, send people to emergency rooms—rashes, swelling, even anaphylaxis in sensitive individuals. Researchers track these outcomes, advocating for safe dose caps and clear product labeling. Drug interaction studies show clove may slow blood clotting, prompting caution in people on anticoagulant medicines.
Interest in green medicines gives clove a bright horizon. Agriculture researchers look at bioactive sprays to cut synthetic pesticide dependence. Food technologists aim to package clove oil in novel edible films for longer shelf life. Pharmaceutical companies develop slow-release mouth gels to treat pain and infection with fewer side effects. Advances in genetic analysis may soon select clove strains for higher eugenol content or resistance to disease, helping farmers and processors alike. The race heats up as climate change threatens traditional growing regions; scientists and conservationists start mapping resilient cultivars and new growing zones. In the world of spice, few can match clove for tradition, science, and potential.
Long before clove found its way into spice racks and holiday recipes, people in different cultures counted on it for its powerful effects. Walking through street markets, you can spot vendors in Southeast Asia selling clove-infused balms for muscle aches, or mixing ground clove into teas to settle upset stomachs. Across communities, folks trusted clove not just for flavor, but for real relief when nothing else felt effective.
Dentists talk a lot about what goes wrong in our mouths. Clove’s essential oil, eugenol, provides a warming, numbing sensation that helps with tooth pain and gum soreness. Chewing on a whole clove or dabbing clove oil on a cotton swab brings quick relief—not just as an old wives’ tale, but with plenty of science to show eugenol’s pain-reducing and antibacterial strengths. Almost everybody knows the sting of a toothache, and grabbing clove from the kitchen shelf keeps pain at bay until a proper dental checkup happens. Studies highlight clove’s power to reduce bacteria that lead to cavities and bad breath, which means piles of money saved on fancy mouthwashes.
Bloating and cramping after a heavy meal drag down anyone’s day. In family kitchens, people have tossed clove into food to make dishes lighter on the stomach. Research on animal models supports how clove triggers better gastric movements and calms down overeager intestines. My own family swears by clove tea after overeating—it settles the dance of gas and heartburn. Over time, more folks in the nutrition field have noticed that clove can help the body release digestive enzymes, making tough or fatty meals easier to manage.
Fighting off seasonal bugs gets harder every year, especially with changing weather and unpredictable schedules. The antimicrobial properties in clove help defend the body against bacteria, yeast, and even some viruses. Several small trials show clove’s oil can cut down on fungal problems like athlete’s foot or mild nail infections when used topically. Some households keep a jar of clove-infused coconut oil ready to apply at the first sign of trouble—right from home, and without resorting to antibiotics for every runny nose.
Modern diets pile on stress through processed foods and hectic routines. Clove ranks among the herbs with the highest antioxidant content, surpassing even beloved superfoods like blueberries. Researchers have measured clove’s ability to neutralize harmful free radicals, which helps defend organs from damage and slows down signs of aging. While one spoonful won’t erase years of bad sleep and fast food, sprinkling some clove in morning oats or brewed tea adds a punch of protection with almost no effort.
Getting too enthusiastic with clove extracts can cause side effects, especially for small children or people with liver trouble. Sticking to culinary uses—whole or ground clove in recipes—brings safe and reliable benefits. For anything concentrated, it pays to talk to a healthcare provider. Stories from family and friends highlight clove’s impact, but research keeps providing more details, making it easy to see why this little spice carries so much weight in home remedies.
Step into any kitchen and the spice rack tells its own story. Jars of cinnamon, piles of coriander, and, tucked in a corner, whole cloves. I’ve reached for those tiny buds plenty of times, especially in winter for stews and hot drinks. Nothing ruins a dish like stale clove, though. Freshness isn’t just about flavor—it affects health benefits too. Cloves hold eugenol, a compound with a warm, spicy kick that supports digestion and oral health. Leave cloves exposed to air and light, and that power drops fast. Firms like the American Spice Trade Association note that most oils start breaking down in less than six months if handled poorly.
The old glass jar on the window ledge seems like a safe bet, but flat sunlight strips away both color and strength. Most kitchens aren’t dry paradises, either. Steam from boiling pots brings moisture, and that’s a real threat. Every once in a while, I found my cloves clumped or even moldy. Moisture sneaks into opened packets and sits on loose lids. Dampness, heat, and oxygen all gang up to weaken aromatic oils. Dull, faded-smelling clove signals something’s wrong. It’s a real loss—especially since buying fresh in bulk saves money and waste in the long run.
Years ago, an older neighbor shared solid advice that changed how my spices tasted. I keep dried cloves in a small glass jar with a tight-fitting lid. No plastic bags, which let air in and absorb smells from everything else. These jars live far from the stove, inside a cabinet that doesn’t get blasted by sunlight. In real humid spells, I’ve tossed in a food-grade silica gel packet, picked up from a baking supply shop. This helps clamp down on extra moisture, especially in sticky climates.
Freezing sounds tempting to lock in power, but it has its own traps. Pulling spices in and out leads to condensation. Water droplets dampen the clove’s surface and foster spoilage. Refrigerators work fine for short periods only if the container is airtight. Truth is, a dark, cool pantry beats the fridge for keeping spice dry and steady.
Storing whole clove works better than ground. Once the pod is crushed, the oils evaporate faster. Grinding right before use means I get the most depth and health value. It takes only a couple of minutes with a mortar and pestle. Every few months, I sniff and sift through my jar. No scent or any sign of softness means it’s time to start fresh.
Results come down to mindful habits. Choose airtight containers. Go for dark, cool storage. Avoid buying more than you’ll use in a year. Watch out for moisture—it’s a freshness killer. These steps keep clove pungent, bright, and loaded with the plant’s natural strength. I’ve tasted the difference, and it’s worth the extra minute. A little effort in storage pays off at the table, with cooking that delivers all the aroma and benefits nature intended.
Clove has a powerful aroma and taste. Just one or two dried buds can turn a kitchen into an aromatic space filled with warmth and spice. Growing up, I noticed how just a hint of clove in a pot of rice or a stew brought a unique kick that felt both comforting and mysterious. Plenty of cooks overlook clove because its flavor stands out. Used right, it doesn't overpower; it uplifts.
Science backs its distinctiveness. The main oil, eugenol, locks in that spicy, warm character. For hundreds of years, people trusted clove not just for cooking but also for keeping food fresh. Today's labs agree. Clove fights off bacteria, which means it does more than flavor—there's a bit of food safety baked in.
A little goes a long way. In meat dishes, adding a single bud makes sauces deeper and richer. Classic dishes like biryani or French onion soup taste more rounded thanks to just a pinch of ground clove. In sweet treats, a bit of clove steps up apple pies and stewed fruits. My grandmother would tuck a few buds into holiday hams. That aroma meant family and celebration. Try it in chai or mulled wine for warmth when the air gets cold.
Clove works best as part of a team. Star anise, cinnamon, black pepper, cardamom—all these get along with clove. When blending your own spice mixes, start small. Too much clove brings a numbing effect. Start tasting early if you grind your own, because the fresh stuff packs a punch. Grind only as much as you need that day to keep the oils strong and the flavor sharp.
People looking for more plant-based flavor can turn to clove. A lot of vegan and vegetarian recipes rely on depth from spices, since you’re not working with savory meat. A bit of clove in lentil or chickpea stews reminds people that taste doesn’t just come from salt or fat. It helps transform simple ingredients into something complex.
Researchers have looked at cloves for their antioxidant and anti-inflammatory potential. There's no magic cure in any food, but it feels good knowing a spice you use also brings possible health perks. Some studies point toward clove oil as good for dental health, which explains why old family home remedies swore by it for tooth pain before dentists were an option.
Store clove whole in a cool, dark spot and grind it fresh. Avoid adding too much early during cooking—wait until the middle of the process. For drinks, drop in a couple and pull them out when the taste hits the right note. A well-stocked spice shelf will always feel richer with a small jar of cloves. Its flavor, history, and tiny size prove that in the kitchen, smallest ingredients sometimes make the biggest difference.
Clove often turns up in kitchens as a warming, earthy spice that flavors biryani, apple pie, or hot drinks. Families swear by clove oil for toothaches, and herbalists argue over its magic for digestion. Growing up in a home where my grandmother brewed clove tea for any sniffle, I witnessed how this spice goes beyond just adding aroma. Yet, not many folks talk about the downsides. That matters, because the idea that natural things can’t do any harm keeps getting most of us into trouble.
It doesn’t take much ground clove or oil to feel its punch. Most shops and wellness blogs mention eugenol, the compound giving clove both its numbing power and warning label. I once used clove oil for a sore tooth—strong relief, but after a few uses, my gums turned red and started stinging. My dentist later explained: clove oil irritates sensitive tissue if not diluted, and that’s only the beginning.
Medical studies back this up. According to the National Institutes of Health, applying clove oil directly can cause mouth sores or allergic reactions. Swallowing a lot can upset the stomach, sparking cramps or nausea. Even at low doses, some people’s bodies don’t react well, especially kids, pregnant women, or anyone with liver trouble. In my own circle, a friend with kidney issues learned from her doctor that clove oil could stress her liver more, so she cut it out entirely.
Not everybody knows that clove thins blood. Research published in the Journal of Natural Medicine shows that eugenol impacts blood clotting, which makes clove risky for those on blood thinners like warfarin. I met a neighbor who loved chai with extra clove during winter, only to be rushed to the ER after a routine surgery when his blood didn’t clot right away. Turned out, spicing up his tea wasn’t harmless for him. Mixing clove with medication isn’t something to take lightly, and doctors keep telling patients to be upfront about everything they sip or snack on.
In many cultures, clove gets added to cough syrup or put in home remedies for infections. There’s comfort in tradition, but also a risk of treating old cures like they’re always safe. People sometimes drink clove-heavy teas or powders bought online, thinking more is better. Stories keep popping up online about folks who felt dizzy, broke out in hives, or even landed in the hospital after heavy use. Researchers warn that concentrated forms—clove essential oil or supplements with sky-high doses—bring extra danger.
Small amounts in food offer both flavor and tradition. Brewed tea with one or two cloves now and then rarely hurts most people. Real trouble often comes with strong oils, home remedies in high doses, or using clove alongside prescription drugs. Health professionals recommend checking with a doctor, especially if you’re on medication or pregnant. Relying on science and paying attention to your own reactions can save a lot of trouble. Safe eating never meant avoiding every spice, but nobody benefits from ignoring these real risks hiding in plain sight.
Many folks looking for natural remedies come across clove oil. It comes from dried flower buds of the clove tree, and people have used it for centuries. Some reach for clove oil to soothe a toothache, relieve muscle pain, or tackle skin spots. Since it has a warm, spicy scent and a numbing kick, the oil often feels like a straight shot from nature’s own medicine cabinet.
Clove oil contains a compound called eugenol. Studies point to eugenol’s antibacterial, antifungal, and anti-inflammatory powers. Dentists sometimes swab it onto gums for temporary relief. I’ve tried a dab on a sore wisdom tooth, and the relief showed up quick, but the taste lingers long after. Scientific reviews show eugenol wins respect as both pain reliever and antiseptic.
On skin, clove oil can kill some types of bacteria and yeast. Some folks dab it on acne bumps and find the redness cools down fast. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration placed clove oil into the “generally recognized as safe” (GRAS) category, but only for small amounts—like what you might swallow if seasoning a ham. Slathering on lots of clove oil hasn’t made that same safety cut.
Using undiluted clove oil straight from the bottle can burn skin. Once, I tried using a drop for a stubborn pimple and got a red, stinging splotch instead, which taught me my lesson quick. Cases documented in medical journals describe people landing in the emergency room from blistering, swelling, or allergic reactions after using it undiluted.
Children, pregnant people, and anyone with sensitive skin feel these effects even more. A dose that barely tingles on a calloused hand can wreak havoc on a baby’s delicate skin. Several dermatologists warn that even diluted clove oil may cause rare but serious allergic reactions. Even worse, swallowing more than a whiff could be poisonous.
According to research published in scientific journals, using clove oil on broken skin or wounds can let toxic compounds sneak directly into the bloodstream. Some medical cases warn of severe reactions—even liver damage—from large topical doses over time. That’s serious enough for anyone to pay attention.
Diluting clove oil is essential. I learned that mixing a single drop in a teaspoon of carrier oil (like coconut or olive oil) made a world of difference. That warning comes from both healthcare providers and product labels. Professional aromatherapists keep dilution rates below 1%. If you’re curious about clove oil for a sore spot or a pimple, check with a dermatologist first. If you try it on your own, start with a tiny spot test and watch for itching or redness.
Sticking to store-bought clove oil products designed for skin might add another layer of safety. FDA oversight for cosmetics is loose, so reliable brands with good reputations matter. Kids, infants, and pregnant folks do better skipping clove oil experiments altogether. Home remedies can support wellness, but safety comes first.
Plant medicines from grandma’s shelf sometimes earn their place—clove oil’s track record in dentistry and folk medicine proves that. Still, modern research reveals real risks hiding behind ancient traditions. Quality, concentration, and proper use make all the difference. As someone who grew up surrounded by backyard home cures, I’ve learned a healthy dose of caution matters more than hearsay. Good info, clear warnings, and direct advice from trusted experts protect everyone looking for relief outside the pharmacy aisle.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | 4-allyl-2-methoxyphenol |
| Other names |
Laung Syzygium aromaticum Clove bud Caryophyllus Eugenia caryophyllata |
| Pronunciation | /kləʊv/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | 4-allyl-2-methoxyphenol |
| Other names |
Laung Syzygium aromaticum Caryophyllus Lavang Clavo de olor Gewürznelke |
| Pronunciation | /kləʊv/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 8000-34-8 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1914947 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:40685 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL16414 |
| ChemSpider | 7199 |
| DrugBank | DB02611 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.029.254 |
| EC Number | 4.1.2.27 |
| Gmelin Reference | 131872 |
| KEGG | C02174 |
| MeSH | D003013 |
| PubChem CID | 3596559 |
| RTECS number | SY7580100 |
| UNII | 4D66412XWE |
| UN number | UN 1993 |
| CAS Number | 8000-34-8 |
| Beilstein Reference | 3578730 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:15755 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1063 |
| ChemSpider | 7497 |
| DrugBank | DB01744 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.029.300 |
| EC Number | 3.1.1.21 |
| Gmelin Reference | 12261 |
| KEGG | C00402 |
| MeSH | D003007 |
| PubChem CID | 26792 |
| RTECS number | CN7090000 |
| UNII | 6V9VYP4JV6 |
| UN number | UN1992 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C10H12O2 |
| Molar mass | 146.19 g/mol |
| Appearance | Clove is a small, dried, reddish-brown flower bud with a tapered stem and a bulbous, four-pronged head. |
| Odor | Spicy, Woody, Warm |
| Density | 0.53 g/ml |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | 2.45 |
| Vapor pressure | 3.5 mmHg (25°C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 10.0 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 12.08 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -0.80 × 10⁻⁶ |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.527 – 1.535 |
| Viscosity | Medium |
| Dipole moment | 2.74 D |
| Chemical formula | C10H12O2 |
| Appearance | Dried flower buds, brownish, small, hard, nail-shaped with a bulbous top |
| Odor | Spicy, warm, and sweet |
| Density | 0.55 – 0.60 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | 2.50 |
| Vapor pressure | 0.44 mmHg (@ 25°C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 10.0 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 2.90 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -0.000044 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.527 – 1.535 |
| Viscosity | Medium |
| Dipole moment | 2.88 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | Clove: 352.0 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -5956.0 kJ/mol |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 221.1 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -317.8 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | −6342 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A01AD11 |
| ATC code | A01AD11 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | Irritating to eyes, respiratory system and skin. |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS09 |
| Pictograms | 🌿🧄 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H226, H315, H317, H319, H411 |
| Precautionary statements | Keep out of reach of children. If pregnant, nursing, or under a doctor’s care, consult your physician. Avoid contact with eyes, inner ears, and sensitive areas. Possible skin sensitivity. |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-1-0 |
| Flash point | > 70°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 250°C |
| Explosive limits | Upper limit: 9.5% gas in air, Lower limit: 1.5% gas in air |
| Lethal dose or concentration | Oral rat LD₅₀: 2650 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | 2650 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | NIOSH: HM4025000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible) of Clove: 100 mg/kg |
| REL (Recommended) | 2.0 |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Unknown |
| Main hazards | Harmful if swallowed, causes skin irritation, causes serious eye irritation. |
| GHS labelling | GHS07 |
| Pictograms | Dry", "Spice", "Food", "Seed", "Herb |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H317: May cause an allergic skin reaction. |
| Precautionary statements | Keep out of reach of children. If pregnant or lactating, consult your healthcare practitioner before using. Not for internal use. Avoid contact with eyes. If contact occurs, rinse thoroughly with water. If irritation or rash appears, discontinue use. |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-1-0 |
| Flash point | 70°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 250°C |
| Explosive limits | Lower: 1.3%, Upper: 9.9% |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD₅₀ (oral, rat): 2650 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | > 2650 mg/kg (rat, oral) |
| NIOSH | NIOSH: MN9104000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 400 |
| REL (Recommended) | 24.00 |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Unknown |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Eugenol Acetyleugenol Beta-caryophyllene Vanillin Crategolic acid Tannins Gallotannic acid Methyl salicylate |
| Related compounds |
Eugenol Acetyl eugenol Beta-caryophyllene Vanillin Caryophyllene oxide Tannins Methyl salicylate |