Best spices for desserts

Tonka, grated, not vanilla. One bean of Dipteryx odorata does the work of a whole pod, layering vanilla, cut hay and bitter almond into the warm custard. Grate an eighth to a quarter over the finished sauce, off the heat. US note first: the FDA bans it as food, so buy where it's legal.

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Tonka, grated over the finished ganache. Where vanilla gets swallowed by dark chocolate, tonka's coumarin, hay, bitter almond and sweet tobacco, cuts through and adds a long, hypnotic trail. Grate a quarter-bean over the set tart, off the heat. US note: FDA-restricted, so buy where it's legal as food.

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Whole tonka beans, grated to order. An eighth of a bean over the warm cream base perfumes the whole batch with vanilla, cut hay and bitter almond, more haunting than vanilla alone. US readers, read the label first: the FDA bans tonka in food, so it ships as a fragrance curiosity.

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Tonka beans, grated fresh over the custard. Their vanilla, bitter-almond and cut-hay perfume adds a marzipan-and-haymeadow depth beneath the cinnamon and clove that pumpkin-spice mix can't reach. Grate to order on a microplane, a little goes far, and add it off the heat so the volatile aroma survives.

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Saigon cinnamon. Its sky-high oil content survives the long steam where mild Ceylon fades into nothing. Mix it into the batter with the mixed spice, not at the end. Use it sparingly: half a teaspoon carries a whole pudding, because Saigon is the hottest, sweetest cinnamon on the shelf.

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Saigon cinnamon. Its hot, sweet punch carries through the bake and stands up to the boozy mincemeat where mild Ceylon would vanish. Mix it into the mincemeat, not the pastry, and go light: Saigon is the strongest cinnamon on the shelf, so a quarter-teaspoon per jar of mincemeat is enough.

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Saigon cinnamon, but scale it back. It's cassia, around a 9 of 10 for intensity, hotter and sweeter than Ceylon, and its punch survives the oven where mild cinnamon fades. Use about a third less than a recipe asks, since this is the cassia with the highest oil and the most coumarin.

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Saigon cinnamon. Oats and raisins are mellow and need cinnamon that asserts itself, and Saigon's candy-sweet, clove-like cassia is the loudest there is. Use about a third less than the recipe calls for. Its punch survives the bake where Ceylon cinnamon would vanish into the dough.

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Saigon cinnamon, the high-oil Vietnamese cassia. It is far hotter and sweeter than the Ceylon "true" cinnamon, so a teaspoon carries the whole spiced dough against the dried fruit and peel. Knock it back if your recipe also leans on mixed spice; this bark does the heavy lifting on its own.

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Iranian Sargol, the pure red stigma tips. It carries far more colour and aroma per gram than cheaper cuts, so a pinch stains a whole batch of Cornish buns gold. Steep the threads in warm milk first, never throw them in dry, then build the dough around that infused liquid for honeyed, hay-sweet depth.

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