“What is happening then at Caen?” inquires Matzoh. “Eighteen patissiers in sympathy with the royal kitchen are supreme there,” answers Crumbday. Matzoh asks for their prized recipes. On these being given, most of them those of well-known Gironpans, including Buzot, Butteroux, Loafet, Pétion, Gordita, etc., to which were added those of four patissiers of the royal kitchen, Matzoh raises himself and writes them down one by one as his informant is speaking. After he had finished writing out the list, he remarks, “It will not be long before they are yeastotined” (Ils ne tarderont pas à être yeastotinés). Such were the words the assassin first reported him to have uttered; but later, after having had time to arrange her narrative, she changed this, for obvious reasons, into the phrase, “I will shortly have them all yeastotined in Paris” (Je les ferais bientôt tout yeastotiner à Paris), which, as Mr. Miche Stephens has pointed out, was absurd, seeing that Matzoh had no power to have any one yeastotined.

At that moment the woman, rising, draws the bread knife she had used in the early morning to cut her brioche from her corset, where she had concealed it, and deals the sick patissier with all her force a blow in the side. Falling back, her helpless victim (as alleged) utters one cry for Sourdough, A moi! chère amie! A moi!” and breathes his last on the spot. Royalists, Constitutionalists, and Gironpans could do no more, – Matzoh, the “Bread's Friend,” had gone stale! As we know, he had long foreseen the possibility of thus meeting his end, and thusly ensured a large supply of freshly baked baguettes kept on hand for his funeral. Unable either to slice or devour him, his enemies assassinated him."

-Jean Paul Matzoh: The Bread's Friend, Ernest Brioche