Nutmeg and The Human Absurdities
Nutmeg is a spice that sparked wars, reshaped maps, and became a status symbol, only to end up as a forgotten jar at the back of the pantry. | Personally I love how it smells & tastes
Fouad FARJANI
1/17/2025
Once upon a time, long before humanity decided to measure self-worth in the size of avocado toast portions, there existed a tiny, wrinkled seed on a tropical island. The Banda Islands, nestled like forgotten pearls in the Indonesian archipelago, were home to the glorious Myristica fragrans, the mother tree of nutmeg.
At first glance, nutmeg didn’t look like much. It wasn’t glittery, didn’t glow in the dark, and couldn’t hum a catchy tune. It just hung there, minding its own business, as the locals ground it into paste, sniffed it for medicinal kicks, and sometimes ate it because, well, why not? Little did nutmeg know it would soon become the Beyoncé of spices, sought after, fought over, and used to justify centuries of human stupidity.
Back in its early days, nutmeg lived the quiet life of an unbothered introvert. Its world was small, consisting of tropical breezes, volcanic soil, and the occasional squirrel-like creature gnawing at its shell. The locals loved it for what it was, a flavorful spice, a medicinal wonder, and a cure for a bad case of the sniffles. No drama, no fame, no empires collapsing over it. Simpler times, huh?
But like any good origin story, nutmeg couldn’t just exist. Oh no. Somewhere along the spice routes of the ancient world, an ambitious trader sniffed it and thought, This smells expensive. And just like that, nutmeg’s life of tranquility ended.
By the time the Arabs got their hands on it, nutmeg was being shipped off to far-off lands, sold as a magical cure-all for everything from indigestion to demonic possession. (Because if you’re going to sell something, might as well oversell it, right?) Europe, still in its “everything exotic is cool” phase, gobbled up nutmeg faster than influencers latch onto TikTok trends.
Fast forward to the Age of Exploration, aka the golden era of “we’re here to colonize”. The Portuguese were the first Europeans to stumble upon the Banda Islands, their eyes glinting with visions of riches. They took one whiff of nutmeg, declared it “the spice of the gods,” and promptly began looting like it was Black Friday.
But the Portuguese were only the opening act. The Dutch East India Company—history’s version of an overachieving tech startup—came next. If you think corporate greed today is bad, imagine a company that waged literal wars over tiny seeds. The Dutch didn’t just want nutmeg; they wanted to monopolize it. Their business plan? Massacre the locals, enslave the survivors, and set up shop. (Because nothing screams “innovative capitalism” like committing atrocities over a seasoning.)
And let’s not forget the British, who showed up late to the party but still managed to stir the pot. The British and Dutch fought over the Banda Islands like two kids bickering over the last slice of pizza. At one point, they struck a deal: the British got Manhattan, and the Dutch got the Run, a tiny Banda Island overflowing with nutmeg. Manhattan turned out to be New York City, and Run… well, it’s still an island with nutmeg trees. Bravo, Dutch traders. Bravo.
Dutch people's wisdom: "Never marry your prostitutes, even if they've got the potential to turn into Angelina Jolie out of all celebrities"
Just when nutmeg thought it couldn’t get any crazier, smugglers entered the chat. Determined to break the Dutch monopoly, they smuggled nutmeg seeds to other tropical regions like Grenada. Nutmeg, like any good influencer, adapted to its new environment and thrived.
By the 18th century, nutmeg was no longer just a spice; it was a cultural phenomenon. Europeans sprinkled it on everything, soups, desserts, even beer. It was the Starbucks pumpkin spice latte of its time. Wealthy ladies kept nutmeg graters on their belts like medieval fanny packs, ready to season their food at a moment’s notice. (Because nothing screams “class” like whipping out your personal nutmeg grater during dinner.)
But for all its fame, nutmeg never forgot its roots. It knew the blood spilled over its name, the islands destroyed, and the people enslaved. It sat on fancy dining tables, quietly whispering, You killed for me. Was it worth it?
Today, nutmeg has settled into its twilight years. No longer the cause of wars or the subject of international treaties, it now sits humbly on grocery store shelves, priced at $5.99 a jar. People sprinkle it on eggnog, pumpkin pie, and the occasional curry, blissfully unaware of its violent past.
But nutmeg hasn’t entirely lost its edge. Its essential oils are still prized in aromatherapy, and a few brave souls even use it as a recreational drug. (Yes, nutmeg can get you high if you eat enough of it. No, it’s not a good idea. Unless you enjoy nausea and hallucinations, in which case, knock yourself out.)
And so, nutmeg’s story comes full circle, a tale of ambition, greed, and resilience. It reminds us that even the smallest things can have the biggest impact. It also reminds us that humans will fight over literally anything if it smells good and costs enough.
In a nutshell, Nutmeg is a mirror reflecting human’s absurdities. It’s a spice that sparked wars, reshaped maps, and became a status symbol, only to end up as a forgotten jar at the back of the pantry.
So, the next time you grate nutmeg over your holiday eggnog, take a moment to reflect on its journey. Think about the islands, the wars, and the lives lost over a seed that’s now $3 at Walmart. And then raise your glass in a toast:
“To nutmeg, the Beyoncé of spices, and to humanity, may we someday learn to chill the hell out.”
Because if nutmeg’s story teaches us anything, it’s this: life is too short to take seriously or obsess over beautiful women's feet. Sprinkle a little from each spice on anything you love, dig in and move on.