How is red dye made

Until , cochineal was one of many dyes that fell under the umbrella term "natural color" on ingredients lists. But because cochineal provokes severe allergic reactions in some people, the Food and Drug Administration requires carmine and cochineal extract to be explicitly identified in ingredients lists.

Aside from its role as an allergen, cochineal has no known health risks, although those who keep kosher or choose not to eat animal products will want to keep their distance. In addition to food, cochineal is used as a dye in cosmetics products, including lipstick, and at least one person has reported a severe allergic reaction to a cochineal dye used in a pill coating.

As Phipps explains, red dyes—called kermes, lac, and grana—have been sourced from scale insects in the superfamily Coccoidea for a long time.

Phipps notes:. To make cochineal red, the colorant mainly carminic acid is extracted from the dried bodies of the female insects in water. A mordant, or mineral salt, often alum aluminum sulfate , is required to help bond the dye to the fibers.

Other additives such as acids and alkali have traditionally been used to shift the naturally bright pink hue of cochineal to deep crimson, purple, or black. The Spanish started shipping cochineal from the New World as soon as they found out about it. And even before that, Europe was primed for a really good red. In , nearly thirty years before Columbus, the over-harvesting of the shellfish used to make the purple associated with both royalty and the Catholic Church caused the Pope to decree that red could now be used for costuming prelates.

All Europe wanted it, and other powers were soon making inroads into the market for it. The color trade became international. Another elusive dye associated with wealth and royal status, tyrian purple , was made from the glands of snails.

The cochineal bug is native to Mesoamerica, leading the Aztecs to be the first to discover and use carmine to fill their lives with stunning shades of crimson. When the Spanish arrived to colonize the Americas, they uncovered the power of carmine's cacti-loving source and built enormous wealth by monopolizing the cochineal market , "It [Spain] kept its sources secret, and it had a law making export of the dye punishable by death," shares Greenfield.

Coveted by the wealthy, the royal families as well as artists across Europe, the dye understandably created fertile ground for lust and contention. While those cumbersome and secretive production methods certainly made carmine elusive, the color itself may hold equal importance for its value.

It makes our eyes dilate and our breath come faster, and it's freighted with symbolic meaning. Also, there are very few natural dyes that make a lasting, bright, true red, so good ones had the value of rarity. Ounce for ounce, cochineal is the most powerful natural red dye in the world.

That's why it was prized," says Greenfield. But when industrialization arrived in the midth century, the demand for textiles increased dramatically and created a need for more cost-effective dyes. Chemists began to use petroleum and coal to formulate synthetic ones, ultimately reducing the need for the cochineal bug.

The shift towards synthetics may have pushed carmine into the background, but it didn't disappear. And now it's making a comeback, showing up on ingredient lists for anything from cake pops to lipstick. But if carmine is a natural product without the negative long-term effects, why did the coffee giant Starbucks, along with numerous other companies, stop using it to add color to its products? While carmine is safe for the majority of people, it can cause an allergic reaction for a small number of folks.

But besides those specific safety concerns, the outcry of vegetarians and vegans, along those who eat only kosher foods, helped advocate for the change. Consuming even a tiny bit of a living being goes against their beliefs and the widespread use of carmine no doubt limited their available food choices. With the rise in meat alternatives and even insect-eating, are carmine and other insect-derived colors the future of food dye? Maybe not, says Schwarcz. Instead, he suggests that highly processed and artificially colored foods themselves might take a back burner in coming years as public interest turns toward less processed, whole foods.

But when that processed snack craving does inevitably strike, remember to thank your insect friends for the tasty bite. Now read this: Food scientists debunk a wasteful myth about expiration dates.

This story has been updated to correct the name of the acid found in carmine from carbonic acid to c arminic acid. Inverse regrets the error. Check, please!