The history of aphrodisiacs: 5,000 years of lust

What is an aphrodisiac? Simply put, it's anything believed to boost sexual desire, arousal or performance. That covers foods, drinks, herbs, perfumes, rituals and, these days, pills. Some act on the body, like improving blood flow, and others work on the mind, by setting a mood or building anticipation.

The history of aphrodisiacs is really a history of wanting. People wanted to feel horny, to be wanted back, to get hard, to stay up longer, to make a baby or to win someone's heart. The ingredients changed wildly from one century to the next, but that wish stayed remarkably familiar.

One caveat before we start. For most of recorded history, the writing was done mainly by wealthy men, so we know far more about remedies for male potency than about what women or ordinary people did to spark desire. A lot of everyday folk wisdom was never written down at all.

The aphrodisiac meaning comes straight from Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, beauty and desire. In one famous myth she was born from sea foam and stepped ashore fully grown, which is partly why seafood has been linked to romance ever since.

The Romans called her Venus, which gave English words like venereal. Both names carry the same idea: desire as something powerful, divine and a little dangerous. People hoped they could invite it in, or steer it, with the right meal, drink or offering.

Aphrodite wasn't shy, either. Greek myths are packed with her affairs and her power to make gods and mortals lose their heads with lust. Naming sexy substances after her was a way of saying this stuff carries a bit of the goddess inside it.

That idea runs through the whole history of aphrodisiacs: desire as a gift from outside you, something you can swallow, rub on or burn as incense. Modern science tells a different story, where desire mostly grows from inside, from health, mood and connection. But the goddess version is undeniably more romantic.

Some of the oldest ancient aphrodisiacs appear in early medical writing. Egyptian papyri mention plants and preparations for sexual health and fertility, and lettuce was linked to the fertility god Min, probably because of its milky sap. Egyptian art shows Min with a very prominent erection, so the message was hardly subtle.

In India, Ayurveda developed a whole branch of medicine, called vajikarana, devoted to virility, vitality and pleasure. Herbs like ashwagandha, still sold today, come from that tradition. The Kama Sutra, compiled roughly in the early centuries CE, includes recipes meant to boost attraction and stamina alongside its famous chapters on sex.

Chinese medicine built its own long list of tonics, with ginseng the best known. Many of these traditions saw sexual energy as part of overall health, linking good sex to rest, warm food and emotional balance. The specific remedies are often unproven, but the broader idea that a relaxed, healthy body is a more responsive one fits rather well with modern science.

Love potions history really heats up with the Greeks and Romans. Writers mention honey, wine, onions, pine nuts, rocket and various herbs as ways to stir desire. The Roman poet Ovid, never shy about sex, was sceptical of potions and argued that charm and attention worked far better.

Mandrake had the most dramatic reputation. Its forked root looks a bit like a human body, and it appears as a fertility plant as far back as the Book of Genesis. In reality it's poisonous and can cause hallucinations, which may explain some of the mystique.

Potions had a darker side too. Roman writers recorded cases of people falling seriously ill, or worse, after being dosed with mixtures meant to win their love. Then as now, slipping someone a substance to change their desire was dangerous and deeply wrong.

The Romans also loved a good feast, and food, wine and sex often shared the same evening. Long banquets, music and perfumed rooms set a mood that any herb would struggle to compete with. It's a pattern you'll see again and again in the history of aphrodisiacs: the setting often mattered more than the potion.

No history of aphrodisiacs is complete without Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen whose affairs with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony made her history's ultimate seductress. Popular stories credit her with honey, almonds, rose petals and lavish perfumes, but reliable ancient sources say very little about her bedroom tricks.

Most of those tales were written much later, often by people keen to paint her as dangerous or decadent. Roman writers had political reasons to cast a powerful foreign queen as a temptress, and later romantics simply loved the drama.

What is true is that scent has played a part in seduction for thousands of years. Perfumed oils were used in Egypt, Greece and Rome, and smell is strongly tied to memory and mood. Want to borrow the trick? Pick a scent you both love, wear it only for sexy evenings, and let your brain start linking that smell with being turned on.

Medieval European medicine was built on the four humours, and foods were judged by whether they were hot, cold, moist or dry. Warm, moist foods were thought to fuel lust, so spices, eggs, certain meats and sweet wine all earned a place on the naughty list.

When new foods arrived from abroad they often came with a racy reputation. Ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg were pricey and exotic, which made them feel potent. Even the humble potato was once considered an aphrodisiac in Elizabethan England, and Shakespeare gives it a cheeky mention.

Fear came along with the fun. Love potions and charms were sometimes treated as signs of witchcraft, and accusations could end terribly, especially for women healers and herbalists. Whether a remedy counted as medicine or a spell often depended on who was pointing the finger, not on what was in the pot.

In Mesoamerica, cacao was precious enough to use as money. The Aztecs drank it bitter and spiced, sometimes with chilli, and Spanish chroniclers wrote that the emperor Moctezuma drank large amounts. Later storytellers turned that into a legend about chocolate fuelling his sex life, though the original accounts are much less clear.

Once sweetened chocolate reached Europe it became fashionable and was soon linked with indulgence and seduction. Vanilla, chilli and tomatoes picked up similar flirty reputations. In the Andes, maca had long been used for energy and fertility, and it's one of the few traditional plants with some modern trials behind it.

Colonisation complicated all of this. Indigenous plant knowledge was often taken, renamed and sold in Europe with little credit to the people who developed it over generations. Next time a South American herb is marketed as a newly discovered sex secret, remember its real story is probably centuries older.

The 18th century served up some of the most famous chapters in the history of aphrodisiacs. Casanova described eating oysters in large numbers and sharing them playfully with lovers, sealing the oyster's sexy image for good.

The Marquis de Sade gives us the darker tale. In 1772 in Marseille, he was accused of giving women sweets laced with Spanish fly, and they became ill. Spanish fly comes from blister beetles and irritates the urinary tract, a burning sensation long mistaken for arousal. It's toxic, and in larger amounts it can kill.

These stories are a sharp reminder that this history isn't all romance. It's also a history of people being given things without their consent, which is exactly why consent sits at the heart of how we talk about sex today.

Casanova's own memoirs are a reminder that seduction in his world was mostly about attention, wit, flattery and persistence. The oysters were part of the show. Strip away the legend and his real secret looks a lot like what sex educators recommend now: be curious, be playful and make the other person feel wanted.

Victorian society was publicly prim and privately very curious about sex. Newspapers sold tonics, electric belts and secret remedies promising to restore lost vigour, mostly to men anxious about getting and staying hard. Many contained alcohol, strychnine or worse, and sellers could claim almost anything.

In the early 20th century, rejuvenation crazes went further. In the United States, notorious goat gland transplants drew crowds and did real harm. Then serious sex research arrived. Alfred Kinsey surveyed thousands of Americans about their sex lives, and Masters and Johnson studied arousal and orgasm in the lab, treating desire as a subject for science rather than folklore.

The real breakthrough came by accident. Sildenafil, first tested as a heart medicine, turned out to help erections and was approved as Viagra in 1998. It works on blood flow, not desire, but it changed how openly people talked about sexual problems. Since then, a couple of medicines for low desire have been approved in some countries, with modest effects.

Look back across thousands of years and a clear pattern appears. Nearly every culture had favourite aphrodisiacs, very few worked as promised and some were downright dangerous. Yet people kept trying, because the urge to feel desire, and to be desired, runs deep.

What seems to have helped most was the ritual around the remedy: a special meal, time set aside, a little effort and a sense of occasion. That's a brilliant clue for you. Tonight, borrow from history: cook something spiced and indulgent, feed each other chocolate, light candles, and make the evening feel like an event rather than a chore.

So enjoy the history of aphrodisiacs, keep the romance and the chocolate, and leave the beetles, mandrake and goat glands firmly in the past. If you're curious about a traditional herb still sold today, check with a pharmacist first, especially if you take regular medication.