Erythrosine first showed up in chemical catalogs in the late nineteenth century, showing just how far synthetic dyes have come since coal tar research started to change daily life. Early efforts revolved around coal derivatives, driven by the demand for vivid and stable colors for foods, medicines, and cosmetics. As textile and food innovations rolled through the early twentieth century, Erythrosine pried open more possibilities thanks to its unique hue and stability. Its entry into the market reflected a broader curiosity about consumer safety and regulatory oversight. After initial adoption, regulatory bodies began asking tough questions about long-term health effects, sparking rounds of research and increased scrutiny. This story isn’t just about one chemical, but about how society learned to balance color, safety, and public trust at every step of progress.
Erythrosine appears in a range of products—hard candies, cake decorations, pharmaceuticals, even diagnostics. The chemical gives foods a bright cherry-pink, making products more attractive and reliable for manufacturers. In my own kitchen, it’s shown up in everything from bakery glazes to jarred cocktail cherries. Production volume reflects year-round demand, though trends shift as consumers and industry look for alternatives or cling to old favorites. American and European markets use Erythrosine under tight restrictions, but other countries show looser controls or different uses depending on cultural appetite for color in food.
This dye forms deep red crystalline powder, usually well-suited to dissolve in water. The chemical name, disodium 2',4',5',7'-tetraiodofluorescein, tells the story of its iodine-packed structure. People keep an eye on Erythrosine’s high solubility; it’s easy to disperse in food processing tanks and confectionery cookers, helping artisans and food scientists avoid streaks or uneven coloring. With a molecular weight of about 879.86 g/mol, this molecule stands out both in the lab and the factory. Its melting point hovers near 300°C with decomposition, so it holds up in regular baking but won’t survive direct flame or excessive heat. Those four iodine atoms give it a unique fingerprint, contributing to the chemical’s signature pink and strong UV absorption at around 524 nm.
Regulators demand more than a pretty color—Erythrosine takes on specific CAS numbers (16423-68-0 or 599-83-3 depending on hydration), and must appear on ingredient lists as E127 in Europe or FD&C Red No. 3 in the United States. Tech sheets provided to manufacturers spell out purity standards, allowed maximum concentrations, and trace contamination limits. Batch testing picks up on any impurities or off-specification batches, so food techs can keep products consistent from batch to batch. Documentation and certifications follow batches through warehouses to bakery doors.
Factories start with fluorescein, then treat it with iodine under controlled conditions to ensure a complete reaction. This halogenation step usually involves acetic or sulfuric acid as the medium for better yield and safety. Production lines favor continuous reactors for scale and reproducibility. Final drying and grinding steps convert the bulk dye into either coarse powder or granules, ready for commercial shipments or direct mixing. Each stage requires labor and technical know-how, since both hygiene and reactivity of iodine demand care and accuracy. Workers in these plants take regular breaks for safety training, a practice grounded in experience more than regulation alone.
Erythrosine doesn’t just sit in foods—it reacts, especially under light or in alkaline conditions. Its photosensitivity makes it fade or degrade unless properly handled and packaged, so bakery supplies keep it in opaque drums, and candies keep away from direct sunlight. Chemists modify its structure to improve stability, creating reduced-iodine versions or developers for diagnostics. In the lab, oxidizing agents can strip its color, while strong bases drive dehalogenation. Every modification changes more than color—it tweaks safety data and cost calculations, so product development teams stay in close touch with supply chain managers.
On supermarket labels, you’ll find Erythrosine as E127 in the EU, FD&C Red No. 3 in the US, and C.I. 45430 in many global catalogs. Commercial dye catalogs list it under trade names like D&C Red No. 14, Baby Pink, or various proprietary blends often tailored for pharmaceutical or microbiological work. Chefs and pharmacists might talk about “cherry-pink” powder without ever using the chemical name, showing how tradition and marketing influence naming as much as chemistry does.
Longstanding debates about acceptable daily intake (ADI) have shaped how much Erythrosine goes into foods or pills. Authorities require manufacturers to run frequent purity tests, and industrial safety standards keep workers away from iodine dust and chemical vapors. Experience in food manufacturing teaches that minor spills can leave persistent stains and odors, prompting thorough clean-up routines and ventilation upgrades. These aren’t just bullet points in a manual—they’re part of daily routines for anyone working with the dye, from entry-level technicians to senior chemists.
Food and beverage industries use Erythrosine for decorations, candy coatings, gelatins, and glazes, especially where deep pink and high lightfastness matter. The pharmaceutical sector makes use of the dye in tablet coatings, syrup titrations, and colored placebos. Some microbiology labs employ it as a biological stain for certain cell structures. My own experiences with Erythrosine in bakeries showed its resilience through baking temps, while its presence in otic and dental solutions surprised many outside the research field. Erythrosine’s presence anywhere points to the intersection of processing technology and consumer demand for color.
Ongoing studies aim to reduce iodine content or seek greener production processes to ease environmental burdens. Research teams devote years to developing encapsulated forms that resist fading and curb leaching in liquids. Multinational firms work through partnerships with universities and tech startups to test alternatives in pilot plants or detailed shelf-life trials. Insights gained from toxicity studies help steer product improvements, influencing colorant selection in both fast food and boutique snacks. Innovations in food science bring forward blends with higher stability or better pH performance, which open broader uses but demand further testing and regulatory paperwork.
Calls for limiting Erythrosine trace back to studies linking high doses to thyroid effects in animal models. The FDA and European authorities set upper daily limits, roughly 0.1 mg/kg body weight, keeping potential risk in check for most consumers. More recent investigations examine subtle behavioral or metabolic changes, but so far, clear links to health effects in typical dietary amounts remain elusive. Personal visits to quality control labs and regulatory meetings reinforce how challenging it is to balance tradition, scientific uncertainty, and consumer preference. Countries with stricter child-focused labeling requirements cite even minor uncertainties to push alternatives, putting added pressure on manufacturers to follow the latest evidence.
The future of Erythrosine sits at a crossroads, as both regulatory and consumer trends push for natural alternatives and cleaner labeling in foods and medicines. Researchers continue searching for new plant-based colorants with similar vibrancy and stability. If upcoming studies show potential risks or dealbreakers for certain groups, market demand could shift even further from synthetic dyes. Experience in ingredient sourcing suggests manufacturers won’t simply abandon a tried-and-true dye, but industry-wide shifts can happen quickly when science, safety, and consumer values line up. Keeping an open discussion around transparency, safety research, and real consumer need gives all parties—a baker, a scientist, or a policymaker—the best footing for the road ahead.
Erythrosine, known to many as Red No. 3, pops up in lots of unexpected places. Think of those shiny red cherries on your ice cream sundae, some types of candy, and even a handful of baked goods. Food manufacturers like this dye for its stable, eye-catching color and its ability to withstand heat during baking. Walking the grocery aisles, you’ll also notice that this dye doesn't only belong in food. Some toothpastes, mouthwashes, and certain cosmetics rely on it to deliver a strong punch of color.
Color matters a lot in food and consumer products because, as people, we eat with our eyes first. When products look appetizing and vibrant, they tend to sell better. Erythrosine’s vivid pinkish-red shade stands out compared to natural alternatives, which often fade or shift during storage or cooking. Manufacturers turn to this dye because it holds color fast, particularly in maraschino cherries and some types of cake decorations.
The story doesn’t end with colorful appearances. For decades, health advocates and scientists have dug into safety data around erythrosine. Animal studies from the 1980s sparked heated debate after researchers linked high doses of the dye to thyroid tumors in rats. Since then, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration has limited its use in cosmetics and drugs but continues to allow erythrosine in certain foods at low levels. Some countries—like Norway and India—have gone further, removing the dye from all foods altogether.
People often overlook the fact that small exposures can stack up over time. Kids are usually the biggest consumers because candies, popsicles, and decorated cakes appeal most at younger ages. Considering recent findings about how food colors can affect children’s behavior or mood, calls grow louder each year from consumer groups for clearer labeling or stricter limits.
Many shoppers now look for natural coloring made from plant sources like beet juice, paprika, or annatto. These options bring fewer safety questions but don’t always create the bold reds manufacturers want, or they might change flavor or cost more. Still, demand for cleaner labels has pushed companies to reformulate with natural alternatives—even if it’s inconvenient. In my kitchen, I’ve turned away from food dyes out of caution. Hard as it can be for birthday cupcakes, it feels better knowing what’s in my food.
Switching to safer colorings isn’t quick or easy. Processed food relies on uniformity and appeal, and every ingredient swap takes time to perfect. That said, some big brands have already pulled Red No. 3 from their recipes after parents and health groups spoke up. It’s not just about technology; it’s about listening to what people want for their families.
Taking customer trust seriously starts with transparency. Nobody likes to discover that something in their child’s snack is on a watchlist overseas. Companies that clearly label additives build loyalty. For those with health worries, speaking up—writing a letter, asking questions at restaurants, supporting brands that care—pushes the industry further along the path to safety. Erythrosine’s history shows both the upside of bold colors and the challenge of protecting public health. People deserve to make informed choices about what they eat, and that means keeping science, transparency, and customers at the center of every decision.
Erythrosine, or Red No. 3, turns up in cherry-flavored candies, cake decorations, and even certain glazed pills. If you’ve ever marveled at a neon pink gumball, you’ve come across this chemical. As someone who has flipped food labels for years, seeking out what’s hiding in plain sight, the topic hits home. Food safety matters to me and a whole lot of families. That’s why Erythrosine catches so much attention—and controversy—when it lands in headlines.
Dig into research, and the facts get hard to ignore. The FDA allows Red No. 3 in food, but not in cosmetics. Back in 1990, animal studies linked this additive to thyroid tumors in rats. That led the FDA to ban it from cosmetics and topical drugs. They left it in food, arguing that these findings haven’t translated into clear harm for humans. Regulatory agencies in other places, like Europe, call for greater caution by either restricting or banning this additive outright.
Parents worry about hyperactivity and behavioral effects, too. The evidence connecting Red No. 3 specifically to these problems isn’t rock solid right now, but plenty of experts see enough early warning to keep talking about it. Groups like the Center for Science in the Public Interest keep pressuring for stronger actions. Their take: if there’s any doubt, why risk it?
Most people won’t hit the official “acceptable daily intake” levels, especially if they’re not packing their diets with highly processed treats. Still, children who eat a lot of bakery items and candies may inch closer to that boundary. As any parent knows, small bodies react in unpredictable ways. Studies show differences in diet can add up over time—something regulators often don’t fully factor in.
For those who care about what lands in their kid’s lunchbox, choices get complicated fast. Erythrosine still pops up on ingredient lists across North America, even as some major companies phase it out. Sticking with whole-food snacks, skipping neon-dripped sweets, or checking for newer alternatives like beet juice or carmine can cut out the risk almost entirely. Grocery shopping turns into detective work, but the payoff is peace of mind.
Better transparency helps everyone. More products now carry clearer labeling. Demanding real, independent testing also keeps manufacturers honest. If enough shoppers keep asking for products without questionable dyes, companies will hear the message. From my own kitchen, pushing back against synthetic colors helps spark bigger picture change. Sometimes, the ingredient we don’t miss is the one that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
No one expects every food to come in earth tones, but our appetite for color comes with a price. People deserve honest answers about safety, and policy-makers owe the public regular review of old ingredients. If Erythrosine’s risk truly outweighs its value, then changing our food system makes sense. Until then, the smartest tool anyone has is the ingredient list—and a little patience before reaching for that glossy pink snack.
Erythrosine, often spotted as FD&C Red No. 3, colors candies, cake decorations, and even those shiny cherries topping your ice cream. Its bright pinkish hue draws in both kids and adults. Few people pause to wonder what else comes with that fun color.
Some people have allergic reactions. If you’re prone to food sensitivities, Erythrosine can spark up rashes, itching, or swelling. I’ve watched a niece break out in hives at a birthday party packed with frosted sweets—the adults scrambled for antihistamines before calling the pediatrician. Most folks have no obvious reaction. Those with allergies find it turns any celebration into a stressful guessing game.
Research has stirred up bigger questions. Decades ago, animal studies raised concerns about possible links to thyroid tumors. Rats fed large amounts of Erythrosine showed changes in their thyroid glands. After that burst of studies, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration cut back on its use in cosmetics and topical drugs, while still allowing the color in foods. Other countries, including Norway and Austria, took a harder line, pulling it from their shelves.
Kids might respond differently than adults. Some parents report their children acting more hyper or having trouble focusing after eating artificially colored snacks. The science here crosses into fuzzy territory; not every study finds the same link, and some researchers point more to a combination of food dyes as the problem, not just Erythrosine. Still, for families already managing behavioral challenges, steering clear of certain colors seems worth a try.
Erythrosine has become less common in recent years, but it hasn’t disappeared just yet. Its safety, according to regulators, depends on how much you eat and over how long. Companies can make a box of jelly beans bright and appealing with a pinch of it, and most people won’t ever notice a problem. The occasional cherry on a sundae isn’t likely to tip the scales for most healthy people.
It comes down to reading labels. Most children’s medications, some toothpastes, and candies list Erythrosine by name or as Red No. 3. After learning about synthetic food dyes, I started teaching my own family to check ingredient lists, especially for recurring snacks. The shift to natural colors—think beet juice, paprika, or even mashed berries—offers another way for brands to keep foods vivid without synthetic risks.
Erythrosine sets off a bigger conversation about how we use artificial colors, not just this one pigment. Sometimes, it takes a little knowledge and a lot of label reading to protect ourselves and the people we care about. Knowing these facts helps you pick what works best for your body, especially for those with a history of food allergies or thyroid issues. Watching out for hidden colorants now can save headaches—literal and figurative—down the line.
Take a look at the bright cherry in a store-bought fruit cup. Erythrosine, often known as Red No. 3, gives that fruit an intense, synthetic red color. Food manufacturers have worked with this dye for decades to create eye-catching treats, candies, and baked goods. The pigment isn’t just for appearances; it shapes expectations. To me, as someone who grew up picking out my favorite color gummy from a pile, the color often meant “best flavor.”
Erythrosine isn’t just some random additive. In the United States, the Food and Drug Administration keeps a tight watch on food dyes, making sure public safety takes priority. The FDA has approved Erythrosine for use in certain foods and drugs, but only in specific ways. This dye can’t go into everything. For example, the agency banned its use in cosmetics and externally applied drugs due to safety concerns. It once faced a proposed ban for food uses as well, after some animal studies linked it to thyroid tumors in rats.
Despite early warnings, in the late 20th century, the FDA set a safe daily intake and chose to keep Erythrosine legal for foods such as candied cherries, snack foods, and cake decorations. The current rules restrict the amount allowed, with clear labeling requirements for any product containing the dye. In daily conversation, most people wouldn’t know all these details unless they scour the ingredient labels or have a child sensitive to additives.
Research on food dyes, including Erythrosine, never really settles into silence. Studies continue to raise questions about possible health impacts, especially for children. Some scientists point out links to hyperactivity. Thyroid effects in lab animals pushed the FDA to weigh the risks every time new evidence comes in. The agency insists that regulated levels are safe, but advocacy groups keep calling for stronger warnings—or even complete bans on synthetic dyes like Red No. 3. The controversy isn’t only about immediate reactions. Long-term effects are tough to track, since food habits change and lots of people mix different processed foods together over time.
In the food world, cost and consistency matter. Artificial dyes make food look sharp and predictable, which keeps production cheap and consumers coming back. Not everyone loves the look or idea of synthetic color. In recent years, I have seen more food brands switch to beet juice or paprika for tints, citing health preferences from parents. But many large commercial operations stick with the old formulas. Most shoppers aren’t digging into the ingredient list every time they pick up a snack or dessert. Kids, especially, reach for the brightest treats—products still colored by Erythrosine.
There isn’t an easy answer. Banning Erythrosine entirely could disrupt products that depend on reliable coloring. Still, learning from other countries, where stricter bans exist, could push manufacturers to invest more in safer natural dyes. The FDA could demand clearer warning labels or run bigger public education campaigns so parents understand what is in their kids’ food. At home, switching to whole foods or brands using natural colors might cut down exposure, though it requires patience and planning. Real change often starts with shoppers asking better questions and voting with their dollars, one red snack at a time.
Erythrosine, known as E127, brings a bright pinkish-red pop to cherries, candies, and cake toppings. It’s a synthetic dye that supermarkets and manufacturers reach for any time food calls for a cheerful cherry coloring. Reading the ingredient label, E127 appears on some medicines and even toothpaste. The question of whether this additive fits plant-based diets often comes up in conversations with friends who cut out animal products for health and ethical reasons.
Manufacturers create Erythrosine from coal tar or petroleum sources—not from animal tissue or by-products. It doesn’t contain bone char, insect shells, or other things tied to animal-based colorants. E127 falls squarely into the “synthetic” camp, and labs churn it out using chemical reactions, not anything grown or slaughtered. On that basis, vegetarians and vegans can say the dye doesn’t slip in meat, fish, eggs, dairy, or other animal derivatives.
People who follow plant-based eating keep a sharp eye for hidden animal sources in additives. Carmine, based on crushed beetles, often surprises people looking for red dye, but Erythrosine does not have this issue. Instead, it’s made in an industrial setting that doesn’t include living beings as raw material, which helps simplify the checklist when shopping.
Choice for or against certain additives involves more than just animal content. Safety calls for attention. Studies from the World Health Organization and FDA set limits on how much Erythrosine can be safely used. The colorant has links to hyperactivity in sensitive kids and concerns about possible thyroid impacts show up in scientific journals. Countries like the United States permit it in some foods, but many places now limit its use because of ongoing debate about potential health risks.
Vegans who look further than ingredients in the product itself sometimes ask questions about animal testing. Like many food additives, E127 faced animal testing during approval and ongoing safety evaluation. For some, this history creates a moral dilemma, since strict veganism often covers products that get tested on animals. People need to weigh their stance on this controversy when choosing what to buy.
Labels sometimes confuse matters. Food makers use vague language or group colorants together without exact numbers. Spotting “colors (E127)” in a list tells you what’s in there, but it doesn’t reveal whether the factory uses animal-based cleaning agents or lubricants behind the scenes. Those in the vegan and vegetarian community often contact brands, ask direct questions, or look for vegan certifications if they want extra peace of mind.
As interest in plant-based food grows, brands now develop dyes from red cabbage, beetroot, grapes, and other fruits and vegetables. Natural options get more shelf space every year, and new laws encourage companies to find safer, more sustainable colorants. Keeping things simple, like baking at home with recognizable ingredients, puts more control in your hands. Large companies still use synthetic dyes because they stay stable and bright longer, but the tide may turn as demand keeps shifting.
People eat with their eyes first. Bright reds attract and signal flavor, but everyone has a right to know what sits behind the color. For vegetarians and vegans who care about the planet and animal welfare, the story behind the dye in a single candy becomes much bigger than just a shade. Open information and better choices make food safer, better, and more in line with personal values.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | disodium;2-(2,4,5,7-tetraiodo-6-oxido-3-oxo-xanthen-9-yl)benzoate |
| Other names |
Red No. 3 FD&C Red No. 3 E127 Acid Red 51 C.I. 45430 |
| Pronunciation | /ɪˈrɪθ.rəˌsiːn/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | disodium 2-(2,4,5,7-tetraiodo-6-oxido-3-oxo-3H-xanthen-9-yl)benzoate |
| Other names |
Acid Red 51 FD&C Red No. 3 C.I. 45430 Red 3 E127 |
| Pronunciation | /ɪˈrɪθ.rəˌsiːn/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 16423-68-0 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1360492 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:49568 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1201191 |
| ChemSpider | 18713 |
| DrugBank | DB00794 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.029.037 |
| EC Number | E127 |
| Gmelin Reference | 88217 |
| KEGG | C16289 |
| MeSH | D004958 |
| PubChem CID | 164907 |
| RTECS number | KJ8735000 |
| UNII | 3KX376GY7L |
| UN number | UN number: 2811 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID2020217 |
| CAS Number | 16423-68-0 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1368600 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:49563 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1200882 |
| ChemSpider | 7147 |
| DrugBank | DB00258 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 100.029.745 |
| EC Number | E127 |
| Gmelin Reference | 8756 |
| KEGG | C16236 |
| MeSH | D004958 |
| PubChem CID | 164828 |
| RTECS number | KJ8735000 |
| UNII | 9U7D5QTT8W |
| UN number | UN1219 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C20H6I4Na2O5 |
| Molar mass | 879.86 g/mol |
| Appearance | Reddish powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.89 g/cm3 |
| Solubility in water | Soluble in water |
| log P | 3.2 |
| Vapor pressure | Negligible |
| Acidity (pKa) | 3.6 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 6.2 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -75.0e-6 cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.653 |
| Viscosity | Viscosity: 2.44 cP |
| Dipole moment | 6.72 D |
| Chemical formula | C20H6I4Na2O5 |
| Molar mass | 879.86 g/mol |
| Appearance | Red powder or granules |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 2.12 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Slightly soluble |
| log P | 4.1 |
| Vapor pressure | <0.01 mmHg (20°C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 3.6 |
| Basicity (pKb) | pKb: 4.7 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -98.0e-6 cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.629 |
| Dipole moment | 7.7 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 685.8 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -969.5 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -1774 kJ/mol |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 596.6 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | −1171.6 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -1440 kJ·mol⁻¹ |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A10BX05 |
| ATC code | A16XB05 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | May cause skin, eye, and respiratory irritation; possible health effects if ingested or inhaled; potential carcinogen. |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS09 |
| Pictograms | GHS07,GHS09 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H319: Causes serious eye irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P210, P264, P280, P301+P312, P305+P351+P338, P337+P313, P501 |
| Flash point | Flash point: >100°C |
| Autoignition temperature | 485 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (oral, rat): 2,000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose) is 2,000 mg/kg (oral, rat) |
| NIOSH | UR7250000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 200 mg/kg |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.1 mg/kg bw |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | No IDLH established. |
| Main hazards | May cause irritation to eyes, skin, and respiratory tract |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS09 |
| Pictograms | GHS07,GHS09 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H319: Causes serious eye irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P264, P270, P301+P312, P330, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-0-0-NA |
| Flash point | >100 °C |
| Autoignition temperature | 385 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (rat, oral): 2,000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): Mouse oral 7,500 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | RN0490000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 100 mg/kg |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.1 mg/kg body weight |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | No IDLH established. |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Fluorescein Rose bengal |
| Related compounds |
Fluorescein Rose Bengal Phloxine B Bromofluorescein |