The King of Pumpernickel Bread

In an earlier blog, I mentioned that Horst Cahn celebrated his 89th birthday on the 25th of August -- mine was the sixteenth. Again I find myself at the Li'l Oak's cafe, or commonly called the Encinitas' Lunch Pail. Minus Lady Barbara home with a bad back, the group is all here and of course, all ears. 
   Brother Thomas, Abe, Max, and of course Horst wait for the 11:30 meal to be served. Again we sit at Table 5 at the Encinitas Senior Center. I pay my four dollars and am given a red card that you need to obtain a meal. Today it is  corn beef, and hash. Besides good food, I hunger for   fun and laughter. 
    Every five minutes, a sleepy Thomas interrupts. Thomas is in his eighties and does not have control of his mouth, just like me. HA HA. From a prominent family, he had left Italy before the war. With no knowledge of English, he floundered at U.C.L.A but took a class in accounting. He wears a perpetual smile, a forgotten beard and a shirt that will soon be covered with food. 
   "Horst," says I, "You told me that you worded in a  deli in Essen Germany before the war. Can you tell me about how you made the bread." 
    Thomas interrupts. "Mussolini sent me before the war to become a doctor. He liked me..."
    "Well George, what you don't know is that people came from all over to eat my Pumpernickel bread. And our deli became famous because of a mistake. I was supposed to place the bread into a oven for ten hours. We forgot and left it inside for twenty hours."
     "Were you the head of the deli?"
    "No, I as the helper. I helped the apprentice. Jews were not allowed to be in charge so the food would not be poisoned."
     Can you tell me how the bread was prepared. Again the Italian interrupts. We ignore him. 
      "Mussolini sent me to U.C.L.A. I am not hungry, Take my plate. 
      "When we took the bread out of the oven after twenty hours, it  had a sweater taste to it. The owner soon had us make fifty loaves every day. Customer came from all over Essen to enjoy the bread's sweat taste."
       "We used a large pot with an electrical mixer. We told nobody our secret was to leave it in twenty hours. We used only dark wheat to make it."
        At that point our food was served. We had two slices of corn beef with cabbage with gravy. Thomas was not hungry and donates his plate to Eleanor, a recent arrival.  The food is better, much better than before. 
       Horst shows us a picture of his girl friend. Another man tells that he has been "holding out on us." 
      "I don't give a shit Max. I want more of the bread story."
       Horst interrupts me and screams, "George if you don't give a shit, you will die of constipation." 
     At that point in the story, I play a name game with Thomas who is all smiles and laughter today. Good food and friends  uplifted his day. 
     Me: "Thomas, when I say "Musso" your say "Lini" We play the name game and everyone cracks up. Then we go to the front to pick up our one or two day old bread. I bus the dishes and say good-by to them...and now hello to you.