In the small German village of Aalen, nestled near the River Kocher, Johann Becker spent his days crafting rye bread infused with a peculiar spice. Johann wasn’t a famous baker, not yet, but his bread was different—it lingered on the tongue and settled the stomach. This wasn’t just any spice; it had been cherished for generations, from the markets of the Middle Ages to the dining tables of Europe.

Centuries earlier, in the Roman Empire, this seed was already a staple. The Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder wrote about its digestive benefits, describing how it was commonly added to bread and stews. The Romans also believed that this spice had protective qualities—some even carried it as a charm against misfortune. It was a fixture in their cuisine, medicine, and rituals, spreading across the empire as trade routes flourished.

In the 12th century, Hildegard von Bingen, the famed German abbess and healer, praised this tiny seed for its ability to soothe the stomach. She documented its use in treating digestive discomfort and called it a “gift of the earth.” Hildegard’s herbal remedies spread across medieval Europe, and her influence ensured that this seed remained a trusted remedy for centuries to come.

By the Elizabethan era, this spice had firmly established itself in England. Bakers added it to cakes and breads, and it was a common ingredient in festive dishes. A curious superstition arose: it was believed that anything containing this seed could not be stolen. Some even placed it in cabinets or carried it in small pouches as a safeguard. While the origins of this belief remain unclear, it persisted for generations.

In the 19th century, Dr. John Kellogg, a pioneer in health and wellness, experimented with the oil derived from this seed. At his Battle Creek Sanitarium, he advocated for its use in promoting digestion and oral health. Kellogg’s interest in natural remedies helped popularize essential oils in the medical community, reinforcing the long-standing belief that this seed was more than just a spice—it was a healer.

Meanwhile, in kitchens across the world, chefs continued to rely on its warm, peppery flavor. Eastern European and Middle Eastern bakers incorporated it into traditional breads, while French and German cooks used it in sausages and stews. This seed had an unmistakable aroma—one that deepened with heat, adding complexity to any dish it touched.

As the field of aromatherapy developed, scientists discovered that the seed contained carvone, a compound responsible for its distinct scent and therapeutic properties. Studies confirmed what ancient healers had long suspected—it aided digestion, freshened breath, and provided a sense of grounding and warmth. Its oil found its way into massage blends, mouth rinses, and even skincare routines.

Dentists and naturopaths recommended it for oral care, while herbalists blended it with other essential oils for relaxation and focus. It became a key ingredient in herbal teas, digestive aids, and natural remedies. In modern spas, its essential oil was combined with lavender to create soothing soaks, continuing the tradition of using this seed for both wellness and relaxation.

And now, with all the clues before you—the ancient kitchens, the writings of Pliny, the healing wisdom of Hildegard von Bingen, the science of carvone—you might think we’re talking about cumin or fennel. But no, the unsung hero of this story is caraway. With its zesty flavor, digestive benefits, and timeless aroma, it has touched lives for centuries.

And now you know the rest of the story.