It is not surprising that the first appearance of frankincense well beyond its native range—in Egypt between three thousand and thirty-five hundred years ago—was about the time that camels were tamed and reliably used for long-distance transport. Among the nine hundred or so terms relating to camels in the Arabic language, one can find some wonderful metaphors that treat them as companions, gifts from Allah, and sailing vessels. Throughout much of their historical range, they were likened to “ships of the desert,” capable of navigating vast seas of sand like no other animal. Camels, spice caravans, and incense trade not only shared a common history but also launched the Semitic tribes onto a shared economic trajectory. No wonder prints of camel caravans and miniature replicas of dromedaries are scattered throughout the souks of Salalah.
The elderly Somali shopkeeper taps me on the shoulder. “Excuse me, kind sir. Are you . . .? You looked as though you were falling asleep. Do you want to purchase something from me before you go off to rest?”
I try to shake myself awake. I decide to purchase a quarter pound of hojari fusoos and a crudely decorated incense smoker from her, in part to avoid embarrassing myself any further.
“Please excuse me,” I reply, “I am tired. I have come a long way to be here,” I add, as I pay for the dreamy scent of frankincense.
I have been lucky enough to see where frankincense is found in the wild, how its resins are collected, and how it is still sold in souks in the very same port where it has been traded for millennia. It is clear that a little of the harvest could be bartered or sold for much more in the outer world, and this fact alone propelled the mountain talkers to engage in extra-local spice trade just as others began to do the same during prehistoric eras in other landscapes around the planet.
But the frankincense trade immediately changed into something larger and more pervasive than what happened with the nearly three hundred other spices that were traded globally. It established an insatiable desire for “the other,” the exotic or extra-local, to propel some people out of the humdrum ordinariness of their daily lives. It stimulated them to imagine something beyond the here and now, something with which they wanted to connect. And that initial stimulus that may have led inexorably toward globalization in all its dimensions began more than three thousand years ago in remote arid landscapes where Semitic peoples wandered.
It has made me even more tired to try and fathom it all. Weary, I return to my boarding room, where I begin to vaporize a few tears of hojari fusoos over small coals in the simple clay incense smoker. As I lay down on the bed, I realize that traveling nine thousand miles through space has not been enough. I must figure out a way to travel back in time. I close my eyes. The ethereal smoke of the frankincense carries me away.
• • •
• FRANKINCENSE •
Although an aromatic incense can be gathered from the trunks of several species in the genus Boswellia, it is the milky resin, or lubān, of B. sacra from Yemen and southern Oman that has long commanded the highest prices for any incense in the world. Carrying the aromas of pine resin, vanilla, and Heaven itself, the smoke of the best frankincense soars straight up into the air. Frankincense is derived from a syrupy latex that does not become accessible unless the small tree is wounded by weather or livestock, or intentionally scored by harvesters. The slow-flowing latex begins to dry into a gummy resin below the wound on the bark, and then hardens into amber droplets the size of tears. In essence, the plant weeps when wounded.
The fragrance and flavors of frankincense are so evocative spiritually and emotionally that this aromatic is mentioned at least 140 times in the Bible, yet its value is conspicuously absent from the Qur’an. Once it had been introduced to the Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians, it became a symbol of purity, immortality, and access to wealth. It was used to fumigate the bodies of the dead and of suitors on the verge of lovemaking, and was omnipresent in Greek and Roman temples, synagogues, mosques, and cathedrals.
By the time frankincense had traveled by camel caravan northward to reach Roman and Greek brokers, its price per volume had risen manyfold. During the Roman Empire, a shipment of Yemeni frankincense cost five times what a farmer or artisan made in a year in the eastern Mediterranean. Of course, it was the Minaeans, Nabataeans, and Phoenicians who did the lion’s share of transporting, carrying as much as three thousand tons of frankincense annually along three major transport routes to Babylon and the Mediterranean. Just as there was no single Silk Road, there was no single Frankincense Trail.
Today, frankincense has four primary uses. First, the people of the Hadhramaut and Dhofar highlands continue to use it as fumigant, air freshener, and traditional medicine to stop bleeding. It remains important as a church incense, particularly in Eastern Orthodox and certain Buddhist rites. It is distilled into an essence used in perfumes, facial cosmetics, and aromatherapy products. Finally, it has become a historical curiosity, sold to tourists and employed in novel ways by culinary artists in high-end restaurants around the world to flavor candies and baked goods. After several millennia of prominence, frankincense may no longer be the most valuable commodity in the world, but it still evokes a certain level of mystery and sanctity for many whenever its name is spoken.
Farah, Mohamud Haji. “Non-Timber Forest Product (NTFP) Extraction in Arid Environments: Land-Use Change, Frankincense Production and the Sustainability of Boswellia sacra in Dhofar (Oman).” PhD diss., University of Arizona, 2008.
Musselman, Lytton John. Figs, Dates, Laurel, and Myrrh: Plants of the Bible and the Quran. Portland, OR: Timber Press, 2005.
Shackley, Myra. “Frankincense and Myrrh Today.” In Food for the Gods: New Light on the Ancient Incense Trade, edited by David Peacock and David Williams, 141–47. Oxford, UK: Oxbow Books, 2007.
• MARAK MINJ •
Green Lentil Curry with Frankincense, Ginger, and Omani Spices
Nowadays, frankincense is seldom used in the kitchen, but it and other aromatics were once highly regarded for their culinary as well as their medicinal and spiritual value. To this day, however, Omanis like to infuse both main dishes and desserts with incenses, rose water, and bright spices such as saffron and shouranah, saffron’s aromatic wild relative on the Arabian Peninsula. In this recipe, I combine the warm, rich middle notes of frankincense and the fine, high notes of ginger and turmeric with the complex flavors of the curry-like spice mixture known as bizar a’shuwa in a traditional lentil dish enjoyed at the dinner tables of the al-Wusta region of central Oman. It uses the succulent leaves of purslane, which can be found throughout the world as a field green and in domesticated form primarily in Europe, the Middle East, Mexico, and much of Asia (with large leaves nearly the size of those of watercress in the Middle East). Purslane, which has a rich flavor and is high in omega-3 fatty acids, can be found at farmers’ markets and specialty-food stores in the United States, or it can be gathered in the wild in the summertime. I have adapted the recipe of Lamees Abdullah Al Taie to include the frankincense of Dhofar to the south.
Serve with rice and a fruit chutney or with a fruit salad of mangoes, apricots, figs, and plums sliced into crescents and dressed with lime juice. Serves 2 to 4.
1 | cup green lentils | |
1½ | teaspoons fresh lemon juice | |
2 | cups water | |
¼ | cup olive oil | |
1 | teaspoon finely chopped green (young) fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped mature fresh ginger, or peeled and finely chopped fresh turmeric | |
Leaves from 1 bunch cilantro, chopped | ||
1 | pound purslane leaves (stripped from stems), chopped | |
1 | teaspoon frankincense, ground and soaked in 2 cups water | |
½ | teaspoon sea salt | |
1 | tablespoon
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