Elaichi in biryani might be nightmare fuel for many, but its undeniable role in adding flavour to the dish cannot be argued with. It’s the one thing you always pick out first, like it’s the villain of the plate, only to realise later it was doing all the heavy lifting. Without it, the biryani or any dish, rather, like kheer and masala chai, will feel oddly flat, like something’s missing but you can’t quite pin down the reason. So, what is the history of the queen of spices, cardamom?
One of the ancient Indian spices, cardamom, has been around for thousands of years. It belongs to the ginger family, and the part that has all the flavour is the seed inside the pod – the green capsule itself is just a natural wrapper. Cardamom or elaichi, when cracked open, greets you with a rush of sweet, floral aroma layered with citrus, mint, and a warm, almost peppery note, all at once.
It’s not a flamboyant spice, even though it might feel close to the flavour profile of clove. Small, intense, and slightly unpredictable, cardamom works less like seasoning and more like a flavour amplifier hiding in plain sight.
There are two main types of this spice. Green cardamom has a sweet, eucalyptus-like flavour used in everything from curries to Scandinavian pastries. Black cardamom has a smokier, more robust profile, favoured in rich meat dishes. Black cardamom is three times the size of green cardamom and is grown mainly in the Eastern Himalayas in Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhutan.
Green cardamom originated in southern India's rainforests, in a region now known as the Cardamom Hills. The perennial bush belongs to the ginger family and produces shoots at the base that are picked when just ripening, then dried. The plant grows extensively in the hilly tracts of southern India at elevations ranging from 800 to 1,500 metres, as an under-crop beneath forest trees – it grows best in shade and cool climates. Kerala became its trade hub, and everything after that is movement.
The ancient Ayurvedic texts Charaka Samhita and Susrutha Samhita, written in the post-Vedic period between 1400-1600 BC, make mention of cardamom, referred to as ‘Ela’.The ancient king of Babylon, Merodach-Baladan II (721-702 BC), grew cardamom among other herbs in his royal garden.
Ancient Egyptians used cardamom for medicinal purposes, as part of rituals, and for embalming. They also chewed the pods to keep their breath fresh. Greek physician Dioscorides wrote about cardamom's therapeutic properties, identifying it primarily as a digestive aid. Roman cookbook Apicius, from the first century, used generous amounts of cardamom in its recipes.
During the Arab-dominated Middle Ages, cardamom was growing into one of the most expensive spices in the world, in such high demand that it was sometimes used as currency to pay taxes and rent. Cities like Mecca, Damascus, and Baghdad grew wealthy on the trade.
Cardamom and other spices were brought to the Mediterranean by Arab traders and sold in Naples, Venice, and Corsica. Those who controlled the trade kept customers in the dark about the source – ancient historians like Pliny genuinely believed cardamom grew in Arabia. That monopoly held until the Portuguese broke it.
Cardamom's journey to Scandinavia is debated. The leading theory credits the Vikings, who encountered the spice in 11th-century Constantinople, then a major trading hub between Asia and Europe, and brought it home. Culinary archaeologist Daniel Serra, however, argues the evidence points to Moorish trade routes from Spain and Portugal, citing the first Scandinavian mention of cardamom in a 13th-century cookbook with recipes almost identical to Moorish ones.
Either way, by the early Middle Ages, cardamom was finding its way into Northern and Western Europe. When the rest of Europe eventually moved on from spices in savoury cooking, Scandinavia held on. Today, Swedes consume 60 times more cardamom than Americans and 18 times more per capita than the average country.
The Portuguese broke Arab control of the spice trade when Vasco da Gama established a sea route to India. The Dutch then supplanted the Portuguese, and the British East India Company followed – each taking a turn controlling production and pricing. In a separate development, German coffee planters introduced cardamom to Guatemala in the early 20th century, recognising the suitability of the region's climate. Guatemala is now India's biggest competitor in the global cardamom market.
In India, it never left. It is in garam masala, biryani, masala chai, and most South Indian sweets. In the Middle East, the Persian and Arabian empires imported cardamom in large quantities – their cookbooks and medical texts specified different grades, sizes, and types. Arabic coffee is still made with it. In Scandinavia, it is baked into Christmas bread, cardamom buns, and mulled wine. For many Swedes, cardamom is described as a ‘memory smell’ – the scent of home. One spice, entirely different meanings, across entirely different continents.
Cardamom comes with a geography lesson attached. It started in the Western Ghats, moved along the Silk Road, was traded in Babylonian gardens, processed through Arab monopolies, carried on Portuguese ships, and landed in a German planter's hand in Guatemala. The fact that it is now simultaneously an essential in an Indian kitchen, an Arab coffee house, and a Swedish bakery is not a coincidence – it is the direct result of every trade route, colonial venture, and cultural encounter it passed through. That's a lot of history for something you crack open and toss into a pot of chai.