Many years ago, I formulated a personal food-compatibility theory: give me any food, and either – if not both – peanut butter or black pepper could go with it. (Or chocolate, but that’s a given.)

It might not be a match made in heaven every time, and the food might not be actually enhanced by the addition, but it could still work. You try it – salmon (pepper), marshmallows (peanut butter), celery (either). Something like mangos could still seem a little tricky, until I think of any Asian-style coleslaw with mangos and peppery peanut dressing, and there we are. 

You have to really like pepper and peanut butter for the hypothesis to ring true, of course, but if you’ve noticed my email address or seen me unscrew the top of the pepper shaker at a meal, you can guess how I feel. 

I still maintain my theory’s reliability, although I have to admit with only a slight cringe that my devotion to peanut butter has shifted to a different nutty spread in the past years … hello tahini. Tahini, though it tastes nutty, is not made from nuts, but rather from sesame seeds. The seeds are hulled, lightly toasted, and ground into a creamy, thickly pourable paste. It’s earthy, savory, toasty, and somehow addictively appealing to me. 

Brands definitely differ in quality, and if you’ve had a not-so-good experience, I completely understand. Some tahinis I’ve sampled can have a pasty mouthfeel, or can leave you with a bitter aftertaste. Many are unsalted, and like many good things in life, seriously benefits from a proper addition of salt (I typically stir some right into my whole jar, and then garnish whatever I’m eating with more coarse salt). 

But good tahini, mmm, it speaks my language. Maybe it’s the sign of some sort of nutritional deficiency or mental unsteadiness, but often if I get the thought of tahini in my head, it’s very hard to shake; I will put it into or with or on anything, including simply a spoon. Tahini is my new peanut butter.

Add it to the title of any recipe, and I suddenly want to make that. A quick search on my Pinterest serves as an illustration of my appreciation of this sesame paste, with pages of pins on anything from dijon tahini dressing and roasted vegetable tahini curry to tahini date milkshakes and sriracha tahini fudge. It’s so distinct and yet so versatile; I want it in all the ways.

I liken my response to tahini-related stimuli as to the contagion of yawns. Some people are particularly susceptible to catching a yawn when they see someone else yawning, and I have it so bad that even typing this I’ve had to yawn multiple times. I’ve heard it said that there is a positive correlation between empathy and yawning contagion, and I try very hard to be empathetic — and apparently I am also tahini-pathetic, without trying at all. I see tahini; I need tahini. 

Great, now I’m afraid I’ve done something very unhelpful to myself. Now I have to yawn when I think about tahini. Now pardon me while I go *yawn* get a snack. ...

Tahini Banana Bread 

How appropriate – I didn’t think about it until just now, but I literally did replace the original recipe’s peanut butter with tahini here. This is a good starter recipe for those of you newer to tahini, as you can taste it but it isn’t overpowering at all; plus it’s very different from hummus, which is the most common American experience with tahini. Spread slices with more tahini, of course, or cream cheese.

Prep tips: bake in muffin cups if you prefer, reducing the baking time to about 20 minutes. 

• ½ cup tahini, plus more

• 12 oz [1 ½ cups] mashed extra-ripe bananas (about 4)

• ¼ cup ricotta or sour cream

• ¼ cup local honey

• 2 eggs

• a good splash vanilla

• 1 ½ cups (freshly-ground) whole wheat flour

• 1 ½ teaspoons baking soda

• ½ teaspoon salt

• 4 oz chopped chocolate of choice

Toss the tahini, bananas, ricotta, honey, eggs, and vanilla into a blender, and process until smooth. Add remaining ingredients and pulse until combined. Transfer to a buttered bread loaf pan, and bake at 350° for 45-60 minutes, until edges are pulling away from sides and center is just set. Finish with a good drizzle of tahini (and some coarse salt if tahini is unsalted).

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, two young children, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kids. Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.