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In love all over again

Falling for aphrodisiacs
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Okay, we didn't work, and all

memories to tell you the truth aren't good.

But sometimes there were good times.

Love was good. I loved your crooked sleep

beside me and never dreamed afraid.

There should be stars for great wars

like ours.

This epigraph in Junot Diaz's latest collection of short stories, This is How You Lose her, has huge sticking power. It's from a poem by Sandra Cisneros, One Last Poem for Richard, from her collection, My Wicked Wicked Ways.

On Valentine's Day — time for love and lovers, times for lovers making up, or getting back into the ring — its point is even more potent. Then there's that line from The Persuaders' song: It's a thin line between love and hate...

So as Cupid wings his way around, bow and arrows at hand to patch up our divided selves, we call on the power of aphrodisiacs to build on that good love and at least minimize great wars. Love potions, No. 9, No. 10, whatever number they are, are as timeless as Cupid itself.

Think Valentine's Day and most of us think chocolate. Eating chocolate makes us happy anytime and not just because it tastes good, writes Julie Burton-Seal and Matthew Seal in their lovely little book, Aphrodisia, which is aimed at making love "more likely, more pleasurable, more possible." This is all good in our busy e-world where intimacy is more common with a glowing screen than it is with a warm human body.

It also makes us happy to eat chocolate because it melts at the same temperature as our body heat (93 to 100 degrees Fahrenheit). Then there are its amazing chemical properties. Chocolate contains small amounts of phenylethylamine (PEA), a mild mood elevator and the same chemical our brain produces when we feel joy and love. Its main alkaloid, theobromine, stimulates our hearts, plus chocolate boosts our endorphin levels — those feel-good hormonal peptides runners and other athletes chase — as well as our serotonin, a neurotransmitter that acts like an antidepressant.

So bring on the chocolate, the high-cocoa, low-sugar chocolate. But there's so much more.

How about seeds from cnidium, a traditional Chinese aphrodisiac called shi chuang zi or snake bed plant? Don't let that name put you off. Cnidium is a member of the carrot family and the seeds from the white flower that looks much like a carrot flower also look much like carrot seeds, but they sure don't act that way.

After eating a teaspoon or so of cnidium, "both males and females reported a definite rapid increase in libido and energy," say Seal and Seal, an effect much stronger than that of another traditional herbal aphrodisiac, yohimbe, which was all the rage in hippie times.

At this point I should echo what Seal and Seal say about aphrodisiacs in general. As ubiquitous and timeless as they are, aphrodisiacs are not dangerous. But they have always had a dark side, which may have come from Aphrodite herself. One of the Greek goddess's identities was Aphrodite Porne, the patron of prostitutes and of sex for sale. From Aphrodite Porne we get "pornography."

In ancient times, philters or love potions were the dark side of aphrodisiacs, crossing the thin line. They were often snuck into food or drink without the intended victim's knowing.

Ovid described them as disturbing the balance of mind and flaming the fires of "furious madness." Here you could think poisons — like the case of the Marquis de Sade, who laced chocolates with the deadly and terrible cantharides (Spanish fly) and was jailed for doing so — or our modern equivalents, date-rape drugs.

Even too much alcohol, which can also be a mild aphrodisiac to a point, after which it crosses the line to have a reverse effect, can have a dark, even poisonous, side.

So treat aphrodisiacs with respect. Like love itself, you should never ever use them for your own selfish ends. Anyone partaking must do so with full knowledge and consent. That means it's a sharing thing, and what is love if not about sharing?

Ancient Peruvians shared maca, a tuber that's a member of the cabbage family. Sometimes called Peruvian ginseng, the two have similar qualities, such as mental and metabolic stimulation, although they are not botanically related.

Polynesians traditionally shared kava kava root as a beverage to relax and feel contented. In India, it is the root of shatavari, a form of wild asparagus.

In Central America, the leaves, stems and flowers of the damiana plant, named for the patron saint of pharmacists, St. Damian, have been long been used for their tonic and calming effect and their ability to increase libido. This sweet, pleasant tasting tea is still popular in Mexico.

Closer to home and possibly a little less intimidating to try, we have rose petals. Yes, they are beautiful to give and receive, but they can have other purposes. Rose water, rose attar, rose tincture — all fragrant, relaxing, good for balancing hormones and increasing libidinal drive. For men and women. Deep red roses are best.

Then there are the fragrant, and euphoria-inducing orange blossoms, even oats. Celtic warriors depended on oat porridge to fuel them in battle, but green oats, which are gathered when oat seeds are in their "milky" stage, were traditionally used as an aphrodisiac. Oats green or not, say Seal and Seal, are an excellent remedy for exhaustion, burnout and fatigue, helping to reduce stress and allowing libido to revive.

By the way, if you want to revive your loved one's libido next Valentine's, take him or her on the original romantic holiday. Fly to Pammukkale, Turkey, home of the amazing hot springs, or to Aydin. It's a short drive from either to the ruins of the ancient city of West Asia Minor, Aphrodisias.

There you'll find the remains of the lovely white temple dedicated to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of beauty, fertility and sexual love. Best seen by moonlight.

Take your favourite aphrodisiac along.

Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning journalist who always remembers falling in love for the first time.