DAYTON — Through more than a century of boom time and bust, fresh dough has rolled at one family’s business hidden in the heart of east Dayton.

Blink fast when you pass 210 Xenia Ave. and you’ll miss the simple-lettered sign for Smales Pretzel Bakery. But cops and firefighters know about it. So do other insiders like barkeeps, city hall workers, neighborhood loyalists and old-timers. They all walk in the door empty-handed and leave with bags of knotted goods.

Think dedication, trust in technique, and a recognition that people crave the humble pretzel no matter how hard the times.

The sight of Larry Smales, a wiry 60-year-old, working his oven and baking long board on a 90-degree September day with only a small fan for relief suggests that pretzel salt is a secret elixer of life. The stuff is embeded everywhere inside the shop. “The salt preserves you,” he said.

Further evidence: Larry’s father Charles, 88, who swings by once a week to make homemade noodles the shop also sells. He plays golf three to four times a week.

The effects of the Great Recession haven’t slowed business. If anything, hard times have helped. People seek affordable eats no matter what, Larry Smales said.

You might say that the business is baked into generations of this family. Larry Smales started rolling pretzels at the business around age 10 and ate them with milk as an afternoon snack. His baby sister Linda used pretzels as teething rings — as the caption from a photo in a prominently displayed 1954 Dayton Daily News story tacked to the wall says. Another photo with the story shows founder Rudolph Schaaf still baking at age 79.

There are no boutique, mall pretzels loaded with dressings here. These follow a long tradition of “Pennsylvannia Dutch” pretzels, some call them beer pretzels — firm, compact, filling.

If soft, they’re hand-rolled and baked eight minutes in a 50-year-old oven with an unusual revolving stone. Smales said he’s aware of none like it outside of much larger cities.

If the pretzels are hard, they’re slow cooked overnight in a brick dry box without a temperature gauge. Smales knows they’re cooking correctly by the look of the flame heating the box.

Contact this reporter at (937) 225-7407 or sbennish@Dayton DailyNews.com.