Zhao Shun's movements appeared completely easy-going, as if he didn't care about the blazing orange flames under the pot, leisurely wiping here and touching there, allowing a half-pot of black sesame seeds to lie quietly at the bottom of the pot.
Sesame seeds aren't widely used in Western cuisine, especially raw ones, mostly just utilized to make sauces or something similar.
No one present had really ever done the task of frying sesame seeds; they had no concept of it in their minds.
Every seven or eight seconds, Zhao Shun would toss the pot, his gaze fixed tightly on the pitch-black sesame seeds, though it was unclear what he was observing.
After maintaining this state for about three or four minutes, suddenly, at a certain instant, the frequency of tossing the pot began to quicken.
As the sesame seeds flew through the air non-stop, a strong aroma began to spread around.
Visible blue smoke rose from above the frying pan, a sign that the temperature had reached a certain level.
