Friday, October 20, 2023

Word: Pumpernickel

 

pumpernickel

[ puhm-per-nik-uhl ]
noun
  1. a coarse, dark, slightly sour bread made of unbolted rye.

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               The light of the teleport spell faded, leaving two figures in the otherwise empty field. One of them, a young man wearing an odd ensemble of leather and cloth, collapsed into the plant life He disappearing from view in the stalks that were nearly as high as his head.

               “That is not easy.” He said, each word interrupted by a deep gulp of air.

               “The fact that you can cast a teleportation spell at all is an impressive feat.” Said the other person, a young woman wearing a dress made of several different layers of cloth. “That you can bring another person as well is nothing short of a miracle. No wonder everyone wants otherworlders to fight their battles.”

               “Yeah, right. Don’t remind me. So, where are we?”

               “I don’t know every inch of the world, Adam.”

               “Well, do you know this one?”

               The woman looked around, poking her head over the top of the plants. “No idea. Perhaps some farm somewhere. I think this is all wheat.” She ran a hand along the top of the plant. “Oh, nevermind. Not a farm.”

               Adam stood and looked at the plants. “Why do you say that? This looks like good wheat to me.”

               “It’s useless. It’s too coarse and doesn’t taste good.”

               Adam looked at his companion curiously. “Doesn’t taste good? This is rye, isn’t it?”

               “I don’t know. That’s not what we call it. I could be the same thing, I suppose. Why?”

               “Because rye is great stuff. If there’s no famrer around, do you think anyone would mind if I take some?”

               “Of course not. Why would you want any? Like I said, it’s useless.”

               “Useless? Not on your life. Elna, my friend, I’m about to open your eyes to the possibilities. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my grandma’s recipe for pumpernickel.” Adam said, already gathering up the grains. As he did, they vanished into his magical storage.

               “Pumpernickle? Is that a food or a metal?”

               “It’s bread. A damn fine one. Once I get this stuff ground into flour, I’ll make a starter and then I can work some real culinary magic. Oh, in the meantime, I can make a good hearty marble rye!”

               Elna watched him go, moving with a fervor rarely seen in the odd man. “I swear you otherworlders have the strangest tastes, especially with food. I’ve heard of one building a room especially for meat that he just leaves there. I mean, really, it’s nonsense.”

               “Wait, you mean there’s a guy out there who knows how to dry age meat?” Adam asked. Now he was getting really excited. “Oh man, put some of the on the pumpernickel I’m going to make and I promise you’ll never have a sandwich that good again.”

               “What’s a sandwich?” Elna asked.

               Adam deflated. In a world with literal magic, it was hard to believe how bland the food was. “Seriously, you people have no imagination when it comes to food. Sometimes I’m amazed you know what salt is. Anyway, I was serious about wanting to know where the dry age guy is. Do you know?”

               “Somewhere in Valtenia, last I heard. I don’t know if he’s still alive though.”

               “Great! Then that’s where we’re headed to next. Just let me gather some more rye and we’re golden.”

               Elna sighed. “I swear, I’ll never understand you. You have vast magical powers, and were summoned to fight a great battle against the forces of darkness. And yet, all you want to do is make bread.”

               “Bread is love. Bread is life. Anyone can stab something with a long stick. But baking? That’s something that can change the world.”

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Money? Power? No. Food is what really makes the world go round. All civilization started because of food.

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