Tracing Ali Baba's quest for the magical sesame seeds

The story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves first appeared in the French version of 'One Thousand and One Nights' compiled by Antoine Galland. This collection has many roots, with some of the oldest stretching back to Indian collections like the Panchatantra. Ali Baba was not one of them. It seems to have been invented by Hanna Diyab, a young Syrian who was taken to Europe by Paul Lucas, a French traveller and merchant with a keen interest in finding, or fabricating, exotic things for the interest of the French king.

As Paul Lemos Horta explains in 'Marvellous Thieves', his history of the stories, Diyab was a useful accomplice. He came from Aleppo, a city known for both trade — it was one of the end points of the Silk Road — and storytelling. Horta suggests the two were linked, with fabulous stories of far-away places adding to the allure of the merchandise brought from there.

Sesame may not have been alluring, but it was an item of trade. Oil-pressing is messy, so households readily left it to professional oil-pressers, making oil and oilseeds among the first traded commodities. Sesame has high oil content, grows quickly (unlike olives), in a wide range of climates and lasts very well as both seed and oil (one reason why it is preferred for pickles).

This is why sesame travelled so widely from the Indian subcontinent, where lumps of crushed sesame excavated from Harappa suggest it was being pressed for oil 5,000 years ago. Diyab would have known sesame from trade but why did he make this useful, but humble seed into the magical invocation the thieves use to open their cave?

One intriguing theory links the cry of ‘Open Sesame!’ to the nature of the plant. When the pods mature, they rupture forcefully, scattering seeds widely, to allow them to spread. Farmers had to be careful to pluck pods just before they reached this stage, and then dry and shake them open to get the seeds.

This might explain the invocation, but it is also probably why we have moved away from sesame to more easily harvested oil sources like peanuts and palm. For such an ancient Indian commodity, 'til ka tel' can be oddly scarce in shops, used more for lamp lighting rituals, or pickle making rather than regular cooking. Even the seeds aren’t eaten much outside sweets made for festivals like Makar Sankranti, and in a few dishes.

This is a pity considering the many ways sesame has been used outside its original Indian home. The Middle East pounds it into tahini paste, or with sugar syrup, into crumbly halvah sweets. The Chinese toast it dark for an intensely flavourful oil. In Japan, it’s grounded with spice and salt for condiments. In both Indonesia and West Africa, the residue left after oil pressing is fermented into a seasoning paste. And around the world, it is sprinkled on breads for a nutty taste. Sesame is small, but holds riches enough for any culinary Ali Baba.