Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal came into labs and factories thanks to a constant pursuit of better flavors and fragrances. Chemists wanted to tame the strong, sometimes overwhelming kick of cinnamic aldehyde—a compound you smell in cinnamon—by locking it in a more stable, less volatile form. The marriage with propylene glycol didn’t just stick for reasons of chemistry but because it hit commercial sweet spots in the food and perfumery trades. By tweaking the base structure of the molecule, researchers in the latter half of the 20th century discovered a way to slow the release of that spicy note while keeping the material safer for widespread use. This proved particularly handy in products exposed to air and heat, which accelerated the demand beyond perfumery into tobacco processing, baking, and even household cleaners. Trade names popped up across Europe, the US, and Asia, serving as proof that industries across continents found this modified compound practical and appealing for their own needs.
Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal usually appears as a colorless to pale yellow liquid. Its aroma leans toward sweet-spicy with a lingering note of cinnamon and a touch of fresh green. Unlike pure cinnamic aldehyde, this acetal doesn’t punch you in the nose or disappear in a flash; it sits on palates and products with a slower, moderated presence. I’ve seen flavorists and perfumers go for it when they want to build depth in a product rather than just a top note blast. Soaps, detergents, e-cig liquids, chewing gums—this material finds a home in many places you’d be surprised to discover. The persistence of aroma is what keeps industry folks coming back for refills rather than hunting for something new every decade.
With a molecular formula around C13H18O3 and a molecular weight near 222 g/mol, this acetal varies by source, but usually lands in that neighborhood. You’ll notice its boiling point sitting higher than plain cinnamic aldehyde—roughly 150°C at reduced pressure. Its refractive index (nD20) floats around 1.525, showing purity if you trust your readings. It won’t mix cleanly with water, but slides nicely into alcohol and plant oils, making it easy to dose into everything from sprays to syrups. Stability stands out: unlike cinnamic aldehyde, this acetal shrugs off routine oxidation, meaning you don’t smell that “off” note cooks and chemists dread after a few months on the shelf.
Sell sheets and lot analyses usually demand a minimum purity in the high 90s by GC. Impurities—traces of free cinnamic aldehyde, propylene glycol, and side-products—must stay under 1% each. Food standards, at least in the US and EU, call for full label traceability, Kosher, and Halal certifications if you plan to add it to consumables. Industry codes, such as FEMA No. 2295, keep everyone talking about the same molecule. To keep global markets open, material safety data sheets (SDS) demand translations and full allergen declarations. It pays suppliers to keep documentation air-tight, not only for compliance audits, but because one recall for mislabeling can sink a whole year of sales.
Crafting this acetal looks simple on paper, but in practice, it needs careful control. Start by reacting cinnamic aldehyde with propylene glycol in the presence of a mild acid catalyst—often p-toluenesulfonic acid or a mineral acid, all while carefully monitoring moisture. The process releases water, which must get pulled away—usually under vacuum—to drive the equilibrium toward acetal formation. Too much heat, and you’ll get side-reactions or degrade the aroma. Too little, and significant cinnamic aldehyde lingers. After the catalyst gets neutralized and the mixture treated to remove traces, vacuum distillation usually delivers a high-purity final product. Batch-to-batch consistency depends not only on recipe but practical experience in controlling reaction kinetics and separation steps.
As an acetal, this molecule resists many everyday chemical attacks, which boosts its value in heated or oxygen-rich environments. At the same time, under strong acidic conditions, it can revert back to cinnamic aldehyde and propylene glycol—a property flavor encapsulation experts sometimes exploit for timed-release delivery. Chemists have modified this backbone by switching out glycols or related alcohols, seeking new nuances of flavor, greater water solubility, or higher flash-point for safety. Some have tried using diethylene glycol for more industrial flavors, or switching up the aromatic aldehyde for softer, fruitier releases. Every tweak sparks another round of stability and safety tests before it ever leaves the lab.
This acetal has a confusing roster of names: you may run into “cinnamic aldehyde diol acetal,” “cinnamylidene dipropylene glycol,” “FEMA 2295,” or trade names like Kaname Acetal or Cinnamol PG. Regulatory paperwork demands every synonym linked back to the same CAS number, 7764-51-2, to clear customs and cross borders without confusion. Different fragrance houses and ingredient companies brand it their way, but if you check the label for molecular structure or the authoritative CAS, you know you’ve got the same core compound.
Handling this acetal calls for common chemical sense and a few industry specifics. Any aromatic compound, especially those with an aldehyde origin, deserves respect for skin contact and inhalation. Storage in amber glass or steel—never reactive aluminum—keeps degradation away, and dry rooms help as some acetals can hydrolyze slowly in wet air over months. Plant workers I’ve known appreciate ventilation and gloves, especially if they handle bulk quantities. SDS sheets warn of mild irritation on contact and possible sensitization, but real problems usually come from chronic exposure. Fire codes treat it as a medium hazard, nothing explosive but not something you’d drench in static-charged environments either.
The versatility of cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal pulls it into dozens of product categories. In flavor houses, its slow-release, mellow version of cinnamon flavor fits into baked goods, beverages, and chewing gum where immediate flavor fade can sour the user experience. In fragrances, the molecule delivers a stable spicy note even in challenging soap and candle bases—places where the original aldehyde would have broken down or evaporated away. Tobacco processors lean on this acetal to bring a persistent warm note to smoking blends, both traditional and e-liquid, without gumming up machinery or causing rapid flavor burnout. Cleaners and household deodorants turn to it both for scent and the mild antimicrobial benefits carried over from its aldehyde roots. Veterinary and animal feed flavoring is a niche but growing use: animals, like people, often prefer consistency and mildness over aggressive scents, especially in long-term feed or bedding.
Recent years have brought deeper dives into optimized synthesis—cutting catalyst cost, slashing waste, and ramping up yields. Biocatalysis, where enzymes instead of mineral acids handle the acetal exchange, has been floated as a green chemistry alternative, though scale-up takes longer. Encapsulation specialists experiment with loading the acetal into microbeads or gels that break under specific food or environmental triggers, designing complex flavor release experiences. Analytical labs work to refine GC/MS techniques for trace detection, helping food safety groups stomp out adulteration or residue issues. Medical researchers have started asking if the antibacterial effect of this and related molecules might open new frontiers for oral care or wound applications.
Decades of animal and in vitro studies form the foundation for its approval in flavor and fragrance markets. Acute toxicity lands in the relatively mild range for aromatic acetals—at exposure levels typical for food use, the compound passes safety screens with little fuss. Longer-term data show low buildup in animal tissues, and breakdown products considered safe by regulatory bodies in North America, Europe, and East Asia. Skin patch and inhalation studies suggest irritation only in sensitive individuals, and only at concentrations many times higher than what consumer goods deliver. Regulatory agencies, including JECFA and the FDA, maintain ongoing reviews—not because of any red flags, but because ingredient exposure in the population keeps rising alongside processed food and e-cigarette use. Rare allergies push some groups to push for stricter labeling, particularly in natural food or wellness spaces.
Demand for slow-release, heat-stable aroma compounds isn’t fading—if anything, new food categories like ready-to-eat snacks and hybrid beverages in Asia-Pacific and the Middle East look to these ingredients for flavor consistency and lasting aroma appeal. As regulatory agencies train fresh attention on vaping liquids and functional foods, expect more paperwork and potentially new exposure caps, but also fresh markets as old scent molecules need new delivery vehicles. Sustainability pressure nudges manufacturers to track solvent, catalyst, and water use more tightly, opening the door to bio-based preparations that could command premium branding. Scientists and engineers with real-world plant experience—who can steer trust with consistent quality and deep safety data—will set the pace in this space, winning over not just regulators, but the next generation of food and fragrance creators looking to build a more resilient supply chain.
Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal sits behind a long name, but this ingredient pops up in daily life for more people than realize. It draws its roots from cinnamic aldehyde, the organic compound that gives cinnamon its flavor and smell. Chemists start with this familiar base and link it to propylene glycol, creating an acetal designed to deliver specific characteristics in products found on shelves and in factories across the world. I first learned about this ingredient working in a flavor laboratory, seeing how the smallest tweaks in chemical structure changed the whole profile of a formula.
Food and beverage industries seek stable, pleasant, and distinctive flavors that keep cookies, chewing gum, and candies appealing for months after shipping. Pure cinnamic aldehyde works for cinnamon flavor, but its sharp edges and volatility don’t suit every recipe. Product developers use the propylene glycol acetal derivative because the flavor profile feels rounder and softer while still holding that recognizable cinnamon warmth. It avoids the harsh afterbite that comes with the original aldehyde, especially in liquid and creamy foods. So, the candies at movie theaters and some colas in coolers may rely on this additive.
Beyond food, fragrances get a boost from this molecule. Perfume houses look for spicy, rich undertones without overpowering delicate florals or citruses. In low doses, cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal fills in the mid-notes. Developers sometimes reach for it in soaps or cleaning sprays, where a gentle cinnamon background signals freshness and cleanliness. These might not jump out on a casual sniff, but they subtly shape the experience of using a product. The propylene glycol side lends more stability against temperature swings and light exposure, something pure cinnamon scents struggle with in warmer warehouses or during long shipping journeys.
Working with food or cosmetic additives demands care. In the United States and the European Union, health agencies review compounds like cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal to confirm safety for human use. These agencies consider animal studies, potential for allergies, and exposure levels. Reports indicate it’s accepted in carefully measured concentrations, though people with sensitivities to cinnamon-related compounds should watch for possible irritation. Having spent time in regulatory review, I saw first-hand how even familiar flavors receive scrutiny—especially with the rise in food allergies.
Transparency helps consumers make safe decisions. Labels may hide these technical names under “flavorings” or “fragrance,” so curious shoppers need to dig into company disclosures or reach out to customer service teams for a clear answer. Advocacy for clearer labeling always matters. As public interest in ingredients grows, companies face pressure to demystify what goes into favorite snacks or body washes. Sharing robust, science-backed data and listening to customer concerns can steer safer, more honest product development.
Food technologists wrestle with taste fatigue, seeking ways to keep cinnamon flavors lively and consistent, especially in fat-rich, sugary, or acidic foods. The propylene glycol acetal variation provides flexibility. On the supply chain side, maintaining purity and sustainable sourcing also matters. Trends like “clean label” products encourage researchers to innovate further, hunting for alternatives that respect health and the environment without losing performance or intensity of flavor and scent.
As a society, paying attention to these small details in food and fragrance ingredients connects directly to well-being. Asking questions, pushing for research-backed answers, and staying informed helps everyone who values both safety and a little bit of spice in life.
People often care about what’s in their food and drink, especially if they're sensitive or allergic to certain chemicals. Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal—sometimes listed in flavorings—has started to pop up on ingredient lists. It sounds like something straight out of a chemistry set, and not very appetizing, either. But questions keep coming up: Can it cause harm? Is it any different than eating regular cinnamon flavor?
Cinnamic aldehyde gives cinnamon its flavor and scent. Mix it with propylene glycol and you get this acetal. Chemists often use these acetal groups to adjust how flavors act in different foods. This process isn’t always new; food manufacturers work with similar formulations every day, and they’re usually interested in how stable, long-lasting, and tasty a flavor can get.
Research and regulatory bodies keep a close eye on compounds like cinnamic aldehyde and propylene glycol. PubChem and EFSA (European Food Safety Authority) offer some details: cinnamic aldehyde on its own has been widely studied, with toxicity only showing up at levels much higher than what’s in food. Propylene glycol, used for decades in everything from icing to salad dressing, hasn’t shown significant health risks at usual consumption levels.
But when two chemicals combine, it’s not always enough to check each part alone. The acetal form isn’t just a mix; it's a new molecule. Data specific to the acetal form remains limited. The main route for most regulators involves looking at structural similarity and expected breakdown in the body. In theory, digestive enzymes should eventually split cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal back into its original parts—both of which have strong safety evaluations already. Still, the lack of direct human studies for this specific acetal stands out.
Processed foods can include many such additives in tiny amounts. Most countries set upper limits for flavor ingredients to prevent unintended buildup over time. In the United States, cinnamic aldehyde and propylene glycol each have “generally recognized as safe” (GRAS) status. For the acetal, manufacturers usually submit additional data on toxicity and metabolism for approval. These tests look for evidence of harm with daily, long-term exposure. So far, there’s been no strong signal pointing to problems with trace exposures.
Labels don’t always mean much to the average shopper unless they come with easy-to-understand explanations. Companies often choose technical names, which creates confusion in grocery aisles. If something about an ingredient sounds off, people tend to avoid it, even if it’s technically safe according to modern science.
One direct way to build trust: share more information. Food brands can work with scientists, dietitians, and researchers to answer the public’s questions, share plain-language breakdowns, and address historical safety findings. Investing in open conversations about research and risks pays off over time. More independent studies on these newer flavor chemicals can also relieve worry, especially for anyone at higher risk of reactions or with specific sensitivities.
Every year brings new additives into the market, but a familiar lesson stands out: chemicals with strong safety records in both parts usually turn out safe for most people, especially at regulated levels. Anyone who feels uncomfortable should still have the right to clear, honest information and support from both food producers and health professionals.
Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal doesn’t sound like much to most people, but I have spent years working with chemists and manufacturers who know its value first-hand. The first thing you notice about this compound is its smell. A strong, spicy, cinnamon-like aroma that usually reminds you of kitchens, bakeries, and holiday candles. Most manufacturers prize it as a safer, more stable way to capture that warmth and familiarity.
The food and beverage world makes heavy use of this compound. Hard candies, chewing gum, baked goods—all these use it for a cinnamon punch that stays reliable in recipes. Formulators like it because it holds up better during storage and doesn’t disappear as quickly as regular cinnamic aldehyde. More nicotine-free e-liquids contain it as well since it mimics classic spiced notes and survives the heating process. In the fragrance industry, it stamps its presence in perfumes, cleaners, and air fresheners. After talking to people who work in home cleaning, I’ve learned brands lean on it for that recognizable scent, which signals “fresh” to most noses.
Food safety can’t be a side note. One reason companies reach for this molecule lies in its lower reactivity. Straight-up cinnamic aldehyde reacts more with other ingredients or air, sometimes creating unwanted side products. By trapping it in a propylene glycol acetal form, food technologists get more shelf stability and less risk of flavor fading or spoilage. I’ve seen this solution save costs in high-volume bakeries and confectionery lines, where even a small change in taste from batch to batch spells disaster.
In industrial processes, handling stability becomes just as important as sensory impact. Cinnamic aldehyde can irritate skin or corrode equipment, but in the acetal form, it behaves far better. Workers who package bulk fragrances or blend additives spend less time worrying about personal protective equipment or machine clean-up. From my own tours of food processing plants, cutting out extra hazard controls keeps operations lean and safeguards workers.
Tightening regulations around food additives always sits top of mind among quality teams. Any company using artificial or modified aroma chemicals faces paperwork and careful documentation to stay in the clear. Sustainability trends push manufacturers to keep their ingredient lists short and easy to recognize. The path forward involves full transparency on labels and better consumer communication. Investment in alternative extraction or synthesis, aiming for bio-based or natural sources of these aroma molecules, can also build trust and position products as more eco-friendly.
The chemistry sounds niche, but the impact trickles down into everyday life—whether you grab a cinnamon treat or freshen up a living room. Reliable suppliers, constant quality checks, and direct conversations with consumers can bridge the gap between technology and trust. There’s plenty of room to expand, but the key always loops back to balancing performance, safety, and the kind of clean labeling that shoppers expect.
Walk into a lab or a flavor manufacturer and mention “cinnamaldehyde”—you’ll get nods all around. This compound gives that classic cinnamon scent and taste, which a lot of folks love year-round in gum, candy, and baked goods. Its chemical structure is simple: a benzene ring with an aldehyde functional group and a propenyl side chain. That structure drives its punchy aroma but also explains the downsides, like reactivity and potential to irritate when not handled carefully.
Now, look at cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal. Chemists would call this a more “stabilized” or “protected” version. The aldehyde group now forms an acetal by reacting with propylene glycol. This tweak ramps down the reactivity and changes both how it smells and how it behaves in products. You get less sharpness, more mellow warmth in scent, and a compound that stands up better against heat and air.
Cinnamaldehyde shines in baking and confectionery. Bakers know it infuses rolls, cookies, and hard candies with that unmistakable kick. Here’s the snag: it doesn’t always play nice with everything in a recipe or a formulation. Acidic environments, higher temps, or even long storage can degrade the flavor or, worse, irritate the skin or mucous membranes at higher concentrations. Some sensitive folks have real issues with direct exposure.
Switch over to the acetal. You find it in e-liquids, perfumes, and improved flavoring for foods and beverages. The molecule doesn’t deliver quite the electrical jolt of classic cinnamaldehyde. Instead, it proves smoother, less prone to chemistry mishaps, and doesn’t break down so easily. Producers prefer this trait because it stretches shelf life and keeps things consistent from batch to batch. There’s science to back up these preferences—studies show acetals often reduce unwanted reactions in complex mixtures, so you end up with less byproduct or off-taste.
Straight cinnamaldehyde can become a problem in larger or prolonged exposure. Current toxicology reviews flag skin sensitivity and oral irritation as key concerns in workplace settings or consumer products used daily. Regulatory agencies, including the FDA and the European Food Safety Authority, cap how much gets used in consumables for good reason. It doesn’t take much to cause an issue.
Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal addresses a chunk of these problems. The acetal bond makes it less likely to cause irritation and gives product makers a larger margin of safety without sacrificing too much of that signature cinnamon appeal. Toxicologists note lower rates of allergic reactions or sensitivity when compared on a similar-use basis.
The world of flavors and fragrances has to juggle old favorites and new tech. As more companies lean into transparency and safety, it pays to approach these cinnamon-derived chemicals with open eyes. Cinnamaldehyde draws from tradition; its acetal cousin helps with compliance, stability, and gentler user experiences. There’s room for both, so long as we keep digging into research, clearly communicate risks, and embrace smarter formulations. In the end, the real winners are consumers who get safer, better-tasting, and longer-lasting products without losing the flavors they’ve always loved.
Cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal pops up in the ingredient panels for more flavorings and fragrances than most people realize. It often brings that familiar cinnamon bite to gum, candy, vape juice, and some cosmetics. Sound harmless enough? Maybe, but as with anything added to food or inhaled, it's worth looking past the label. I’ve spent years checking food additives for safety in my kitchen and my own lab notes, and the questions about this compound keep resurfacing for a good reason.
This ingredient starts with cinnamic aldehyde, the stuff that gives cinnamon its snap, blended—through a chemical process—with propylene glycol. With the acetal, the final product holds onto that classic cinnamon aroma but behaves differently during digestion or inhalation. The compound isn’t just another harmless plant extract; it depends on how it's processed and how it enters the body.
I’ve seen flavor professionals and vape enthusiasts bring up everything from skin irritation to concerns about respiratory effects. If someone comes into regular contact with cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal, they could see symptoms like redness or burning where the skin meets a product, especially in cosmetics or lotions. Food products may carry less risk, but some people report mouth stinging after chewing gum or eating candy with a hefty dose of cinnamon flavoring.
The real questions stack up with inhalation. Vape devices and e-cigarettes sometimes use this molecule for cinnamon flavor. The lungs don’t just passively let anything slide by; they react to irritants. Animal studies, as well as a few human case reports, raise flags over potential airway inflammation or aggravated asthma after breathing in compounds related to cinnamic aldehyde. Propylene glycol by itself already dries out and irritates some folks’ throats. When combined in acetal form, those who have asthma or respiratory sensitivities may want to tread carefully. Research from 2020 found certain flavorings in e-liquids can slow down or damage the cells lining airways, making the effect stronger if someone already deals with allergies or compromised lung function.
Regulators in the United States and the European Union haven’t slammed the brakes on this ingredient, not yet. Ingestion in food at average exposure levels stays well below levels that cause toxic effects in rats or other animal studies. Still, very little information comes from long-term, real-world use, especially when it comes to heating or inhaling the compound. Many so-called “generally recognized as safe” flavorings wind up in trouble once they’re studied outside of a petri dish—particularly as part of e-cigarettes or heated products, since heat can create new reactions and byproducts.
The lack of complete human studies leaves room for doubt, especially for people with chemical sensitivities or children prone to allergies. That worry isn’t just hypothetical. Poison control centers in the U.S. now see a growing pattern of flavoring-related calls from vaping or accidental ingestion by kids. Consistent exposure—whether through skin, food, or inhaled mist—could result in unpredictable immune responses.
If a product smells sweet and spicy like cinnamon, it’s worth flipping over the label. Those sensitive to cinnamon, synthetic fragrances, or propylene glycol might need to avoid items using cinnamic aldehyde propylene glycol acetal. Food safety agencies urge brands not to push flavor doses too high, especially in products for kids or vapers. Consumers deserve a fair look at what these chemical names mean for their daily choices. Decisions about what goes into bodies—or onto skin—should rest on transparent, unbiased research instead of just assuming “plant-derived” equals safe. Brands and safety watchdogs shouldn’t skip over the way real people actually use these ingredients, especially with growing evidence that flavor chemicals have downsides.
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