Sesame

Sesamum indicum. One of the oldest cultivated oilseeds — domesticated in the Indian subcontinent more than four thousand years ago and now native, in the practical sense, to almost every cuisine east of Sicily. The seed is small, oily, and unremarkable until it is toasted, at which point it becomes one of the most aromatic ingredients in the kitchen.

Sesame is best understood in three forms. Untoasted, it is mild and faintly nutty — useful for texture rather than flavor. Toasted — iri-goma in Japanese, kkaesogeum salt in Korea — is where the seed becomes interesting; the oils inside the husk caramelize and the smell turns dense and warm. Sesame oil, pressed from toasted seeds, is the most concentrated form: a few drops can change the character of a dish, and a tablespoon will dominate it.

The structural role of sesame across East Asia is closer to the role of olive oil in the Mediterranean than it first appears. Both are pressed oils. Both are finishing oils — added off the heat, where their aromatics survive. Both lose their character if heated too hard. Both are, in the cuisines that built around them, one of the few sources of fat used to finish rather than to cook.

A bowl of plain rice with a half teaspoon of toasted sesame oil and a pinch of flaky salt is the Korean equivalent of bread dipped in good olive oil. Same gesture. Different ocean.