City Face

Baby and I jetted off to New York last week for work. Well, I went to work, but Lulu went to play. She insisted on walking down to the Flatiron District. She also insisted that she should get hit by a cab on account of her being in New York, and became enraged when I refused. When she tried to dive off a subway platform I was similarly uncooperative. I'm the worst, really.

You and I might raise our eyebrows at $800 strollers, but pushing a perfectly adequate suburban stroller around the city for several days makes you realize that for some people, strollers are serious business. They have to negotiate rough walkways and yet collapse with a touch to get into a cab. They should support the weight of all our errands and groceries, but be easy enough to sling over your shoulder for a run down the stairs to catch the subway. Bless you city dwellers with the budgets for $1200 origami folding strollers with hydraulics, LED lighting, GPS, and matte racing stripes, for you need them.

Every time I go to New York I put on my City Face. 

Steps to City Face:

1. Wipe that smile off your face
2. Allow your mouth to settle into a natural scowl
3. Look straight ahead
4. DO NOT look people in the eye
5. LET ALONE greet people with a nod or, heaven forbid, a "Good morning!"
6. Assume you have a right to be everywhere
7. Walk faster
8. Walk around
9. Walk through

There! Now you're ready for New York! Just don't try to dive off a Subway platform, it's just not done (not even if you're Lulu.)

Living The Seasons

I tried something this summer that I thought I'd never have the guts to try: I didn't turn on the air conditioning. We had a late and soggy Spring that helped to keep everything cool, so even though I was one million months pregnant until late June, I wasn't boiling. The furnace ran constantly last Winter with little difference in warmth, and the day or two I tried to cool the house, it struggled vainly to move the temperature. Off it stayed.

I managed by opening as many windows as possible to allow the slight and inconsistent river breezes to help cool us. Since we live in the mountain west, it cools off at night pretty quickly. The boys ran around in almost nothing. The heat during a few hours of late afternoon was almost oppressive upstairs, but downstairs it was cool enough to live comfortably.

There was something about embracing the season that felt right. Summer should be hot. The morning should be cool. The afternoon breeze should blow the sheer curtains gently. You should feel the relief as the sun disappears behind the trees and the rays push their force somewhere else. I dressed Lulu in onesies for bed time and turned on a fan to cool her room. I did miss a ceiling fan, but portable fans helped (especially when nursing a hot little baby on a leather couch.)

It wasn't until a mid August Sunday afternoon and a visit from my mother-in-law that prompted me to turn on the air to keep her comfortable.

We were sitting on the couch when the ceiling started dripping. And then water was pouring like a light faucet from the ceiling. Our air conditioner unit, the one I hadn't used all summer, was broken. It had probably been broken as part of the furnace for months, that's why it had run all last Winter and barely warmed our home. We turned off the air and the leak stopped.

This Fall, as the temperature drops into the 50s, I long to keep the windows open as long as possible. I'd sleep with them open in January if I could. It's Fall. It should be chilly. The boys need sweat shirts and socks, an extra sweater, down puffs. Lulu wears fleece pajamas and a cozy quilt to bed; behind her drawn curtains are shutters too keep in the warmth and barrier the cold.

Sometimes I think we hide behind our furnaces and fireplaces instead of feeling the seasons. Terrified to be hot. Scared of being cold. Feeling your rings grow tighter in June and then slip off your fingers in December. Insisting on t-shirts on single digit days, Ugg boots in July. We don't try to live in harmony with our world. We fight the weather instead of finding the joy in the constant change. It will be icicles, rain, heat, chill again and again. Live where you are.

I Assaulted a Countertop and Ate Food

I may have been blogstalking Communal, the new restaurant from chefs Colton Soelberg and Joseph McRae of Pizzeria 712 fame. Look, that's them!

Do you remember eating at P712 with me? Wasn't it lovely? Shouldn't we go back again soon?

My friends Noelle and Janet invited me to lunch at Communal, in the old Goldsmith's building in downtown Provo. I yanked a few pictures of what we ate from Lindsey:

Airline Chicken

Poached tuna with frisee and olive tapenade, served with heirloom tomato bread pudding

Butterscotch Pot de Creme and cookies

Yes, it was all delicious, better than it looks, which, I know, hardly seems possible. I adored the sea scallops with tomato relish, and the roasted squash with apples and thyme the very best. The service? I stepped away from the table to answer a call and when I got back, the crumpled napkin I'd left had been replaced by a clean, folded one set neatly at my plate. So unobtrusive I almost didn't notice it. I dared the girl sitting next to me to run to the bathroom and see if her napkin wasn't replaced, too. I walked away from the table just for kicks and got another fresh napkin. NEW GAME!

I completely geeked out, and after feeling up the concrete countertops polished with beeswax, I asked Soelberg and McRae how Alice Waters has influenced them. Why? Because all those long months ago, when I first stepped foot inside P712, I saw an Alice Waters quote on the wall, and I knew I'd found my local culinary mecca.

Colton and Joseph (may I call them by their first names? I forgot to ask,) understand Waters' primary directive: when you pick the freshest ingredients, as close to where they grew as possible, in the right season, and cook them with respect, it yields extraordinary food.

I decided to ask which cookbooks Colt and Joe (more familiar as this post rambles!) love in case I could suck in my breath, push up my glasses, pull a Mary Catherine Gallagher, and say "Me too, me too, me too."

The Chez Panisse books - Alice Waters (duh)
Zuni Cafe - Judy Rogers
Sunday Suppers at Luques - Suzanne Goin
The French Laundry, Bouchon, and Under Pressure - Thomas Keller
Au Pied de Cochon - Martin Picard
Il Viaggio di Vetri - Mark Vetri
Think Like a Chef and The Craft of Cooking - Tom Colicchio

You big time foodie geeks just found soulmates, didn't you? Me too, me too, me too. For the rest of you, let me translate: Communal knows what they're doing. Why "Communal"? Because it's supposed to be like Sunday dinner: sharing a table, being with cherished ones, and communing over bread made with love.


Thanks, C & J.






Want to go? I asked, and Communal would love to have you. $40 gift certificate goes to one commenter who leaves me a note on this post with their favorite cookbook before Friday, October 16th expires.

If you win, can I go too? We can make a reservation, sit in the private dining room, and I can tell you stories that are too inappropriate to blog about in public. I'll pay for myself, swear.

I'm a Little Obsessed with Waffles

You know Belgian waffles? No, not the normal deep waffles that you pull out of your Belgian waffle maker, I mean real Belgian waffles, you know, from Belgia.

When I was eight my family traveled through Brussels on their way to less frozen parts of Europe, and while waiting in the smoky train station my father bought us our first actual Belgian waffles. They’re deep welled waffles, as you’d expect, but the outside of them is covered in sticky caramel that blows your mind. My uncle, having served his LDS mission the region, had a recipe for Belgian waffles, but was never able to find the pearl sugar needed stateside. My dad, always the inventive chef, tried off and on for twenty years to recreate those insanely delicious waffles.

Two years ago, when an IKEA that carried pearl sugar opened near us, Dad tried again. He spent a month trying different recipes and techniques, but was unable to replicate the crisp, yet sticky caramel exterior of the waffles. Eventually, we realized that our puny home waffle makers would never get hot enough to caramelize the pearl sugar while cooking the waffle. And we, shedding tears of longing, gave up.

And then, I heard something incredible: Saturday, on the first day of the Provo Farmer’s Market, someone is coming to sell real Belgian waffles. Now, I love the Provo Farmer’s Market, I’ve snagged the most gorgeous jewelry, spicy tamales, hot donuts, and fresh produce on my visits. But Belgian waffles? Are you kidding me? This is a whole new dimension of awesome. Probably the 7th dimension of awesome.

Who’s in? I’ll be there (100 south 500 west, 11am) with bells on.

Well, not actual bells, probably just jeans and heels. I can’t wait!

JUST Like a Cosmo Quiz!

A friend asked me over dinner the other night if she was becoming a Marxist. She had been discussing social changes with her husband and was recently questioning her long held beliefs.

“That’s a great question,” I answered, “I can help you figure that out.” So here’s a little Marxism quiz to help you find out where you stand. Oh, and use a pencil, please, so that you may courteously erase your answers.

The Jet Set

Am I a Marxist?

Quiz

1. Land Redistribution

Too much land belongs to too few people. Let’s take all the land and divide it evenly among everyone, or at least according to everyone’s needs.

1. I’m for it!
2. It sounds OK, but maybe we should look into it a little more.
3. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.
4. I am a capitalist pig that owns a lot of land so I’m pretty much against this.

2. The Workers’ Revolution

Workers will rise up and seize the means of production to take control of their own lives for the betterment of all.

1. It’s inevitable! As soon as the people wake up and realize that there is a big black boot on the juggernaut of the worker, it’s totally going to happen.
2. Maybe we should start small, like the employees of Footlocker could go first.
3. Is this going to function like the committees at work? I don’t know if this is such a good idea.
4. I am a capitalist pig that owns many factories and lots of means of productions. How will I spend lavishly at the expense of the working classes if there’s a revolution?

3. Class Consciousness

You need to become aware that you’re part of a society that exploits classes. We need to achieve consciousness of class before we can mount a proper revolution.

1. You need to wake up and smell the proletariat! Look, it’s simple; society is rigidly class-based! The people need to understand where they fit so we can finally have an awesome revolution that will solve all of our problems.
2. I like the idea of just one class of people, the workers. I can still be the boss, though, right?
3. I think everyone knows we have a class system, but maybe the best way to affect change is to allow for fluidity of class through education and opportunities.
4. That sounds like another way of taking money out of my capitalist pig pockets, which, to clarify, is totally bad.

4. History = Class Struggle

History is nothing more than the way that the different classes have struggled against each other

1. Amen! And the sooner we update all the textbooks to say that, the sooner the people will be educated about how the workers have been oppressed. Then we can get on with that revolution you talked about.
2. Hmm. I can see some valid points in your argument, after all, serfdom, slavery, factory conditions, the very word “Dickensian.”
3. It’s one way to look at history, but hardly the only way or even a complete way.
4. Classes? No such thing. Except that as a capitalist pig I am definitely morally superior to you and always have been, now get back to work.

5. Religion
1. Religion is the opiate of the masses!
2. I don't know about opiates, but I sure do fall asleep in church a lot.
3. Maybe people should be allowed to worship, or not worship, as they please. However, I am in favor of poppyseed muffins.
4. I import opium. It's a long story, but most capitalist pigs are diversified. I'm also episcopalian, if you must know.
   
6. The Family

The family is the basic unit of our currently corrupt society. The family gets in the way of the rise of the people because it prevents revolution.

1. Preventing revolution is bad! As long as people continue to think of ‘families’ as the place where children are raised through mind control, the future workers will be hamstrung by their own conventions. Families: Against!
2. Mine isn’t one of them, but I know some pretty terrible families. The Jensons down the street come to mind…Can you take their kids first?
3. There are so many things wrong with that statement; I don’t even want to start. Leave my kids alone.
4. I am a capitalist pig that uses familial conventions to suppress the worker and all political thought. Families are useful to keep my control of society (so that I can enrich my own pockets.) Besides, if there weren't families, who would shop at the company store?

Scoring

Mostly A: You are a Marxist!

Well met, Comrade! Let’s go to a café and discuss how we can bring about the revolution of the proletariat. We have a lot of work to do and questions to answer, i.e. yes or no to armed resistance? How fast do you think we can collectivize? We need to come up with a good name, is The Shining Path already taken?

Mostly B: You are Petit Bourgeois!

You sympathize with the workers but might employ workers as well. Don’t worry, you will be crushed under the wheels of the revolution that you helped to start! OK, maybe worry a little.

Mostly C: You are Bourgeois!

You might own the means of production, but you might also just be opposed to crazy revolutions that hurt more people than they save. Lots of people get called bourgeois; all they are is rationally opposed to going to much in either direction--which is probably why they will be crushed under the wheels of the revolution.

Mostly D: You’re a Capitalist Pig!

Not only do you own the means of production, but you will oppress all to maintain power. You may establish some foundations and engage in philanthropy to redeem the terrible acts you’ve engaged in, and people you’ve sacrificed to the cogs, all in an attempt to assuage your soul (putting you into the company of the Carnegies and the Rockefellers.) On the bright side, where will you summer this year?

How did you do?

Monuments

One of the cool things about gmail is that they have little snips of news stories, recipes, sometimes even quotations on the page above your emails. You can scroll back in case you missed one, or forward if you find that one more story on the Subprime meltdown will send you to the looney bin.

Yesterday, my gmail displayed the following quote from Paul Harvey, "I've never seen a monument erected to a pessimist."

I thought about that for a second. Almost immediately I came to the conclusion that Paul Harvey is an idiot. He's wrong, of course, because thousands of monuments exist paying homage to pessimism in many forms.

Here are the monuments I’ve seen that were erected to pessimists:

Lenin: Yeah, lots of those.

Stalin: He was such a pessimist he slaughtered or caused the death of between 3 and 50 million of his own people. Not everyone was so cool with him after that, so most of monuments are gone.

Chairman Mao: Not only was Mao Tse Tung a pessimist, he was a paranoid pessimist. I guess he and Stalin would have been BFFs if they'd only identified on that particular facet of their personalities.

Joey S., "You know who else I don't like?"
Mao, "Who? Intellectuals?"
Joey S., "Totally. Intellectuals suck. Also, everyone else."

Speaking of paranoid pessimists, how about the monuments erected to Kim Jong il and his dad, or Saddam Hussein?

Just about every paranoid, pessimistic despot in the history of time has had a monument erected to them at some point. At this point, I'm wondering if you can have a monument that isn't erected to a paranoid pessimist?

Lord Nelson wasn't a paranoid pessimist, was he?

In the Austrian town where we lived there was a monument to the black plague in the center square. I’m pretty sure that if you were to personify the plague, you’d get a pessimistic guy. At the very least, the black plague is a downer (like feline AIDS.)

I don't think I would define myself as a pessimist. I am a worrier, well, more of a horribilizer, really. Although I like to imagine all the things that could go wrong, I try to keep a 'half-full' approach. I was almost cheerful the other day when I was scrubbing paint out of the carpet. OK, I was cheerful because I knew that if I got upset, then Other Half would want to wring El Guille's neck. As much as I want to wring his neck, I also wanted to keep him alive (See: Motherhood Conundrum.) I was crusading for the cause of keeping a lid on things.

On Sunday, when Other Half woke up on the wrong side of the bed and stayed there, I was cheerful to the point of mania. I was not going to ruin our Sunday feelings by giving into his grump-master routine. I even growled at him through a big smile during the passing of the Sacrament to "Lay off the attitude." Yet, I remained happiness personified even as I walked the halls with the baby and the preschooler. I probably deserved a monument after that day.

I think to be a pessimist you have to remain down and out even during the best of times. I like to think that I am hopeful, even optimistic, at least 50% of the time. Every once in a while, it is fun to be a little pessimistic. Lewis Black is a self-acknowledged pessimist and he's hilarious. I could step up the pessimism and become a roaring success, don't you think?

Then again, how can I be an affirmed pessimist when there are cats out there named Chairman Meow?

Now, who was uncomfortable that I said "erected" so many times?

Mao, "Want to hang out this weekend?"
Joey S., "Sure. I might have to finish up a couple five year plans, but I should be done by Friday."
Mao,"Five Year plans? I have a couple of those hanging over my head, haha! What do you want to do?"
Joey S., "Let's collectivize some farms and shoddily industrialize manufacturing."
Mao, "Sounds wicked-cool."

Birthday

If my baby cries my mother turns on me.

Her eyes narrow as she says,

hisses really,

“What did you eat?”

My response, “Noooothing!” whining like I’m 13, not 31 (today) and not a grown wife and mother (but that’s another post.)

Here’s the truth:

I probably did eat something and I can eat it no longer.

I gave up chocolate. Just for balance I’m giving up broccoli too. Don’t fret! No tears! It’s temporary.
Proximo doesn’t like chocolate. It’s too acidic and when I eat it he screams as if a thousand tiny daggers are piercing him. Drama queen.

The universe requires balance, so he feels the same way about broccoli. I like chocolate AND broccoli, although not in the same fondue if you know what I mean.

This is hard on all fronts.

What does that mean, "gave up chocolate"? I can eat Nutella on whole wheat and it doesn't seem to effect Prox. I cannot eat dark chocolate pieces, that's for sure. Exactly how many chips in a cookie before it's a no-go?

Are all cruciferous veggies out? What about dark leafies? Raw or steamed, does it make a difference? I guess I'm living on the edge since I ate both peas and green beans for dinner (two helpings!)

Then again, don't tell my mom, but it seems like he just cries between 2 and 6 am no matter what I eat. So there.

For my birthday mom & family are going to Spain without me. Boo.

Normally I am working and can't go. This year I have the time and might have even been able to scrounge up the money. But can you imagine traveling with a one month old and a three year old across the Atlantic? I CAN. No trip this year for me. Extra boo.

To make me feel better, Utah decided to have the hottest day of the year. We didn't turn on the air conditioning. It felt plenty like Spain in this house.

What is with Europeans and their severe distrust of air conditioning? For those of you who have never been, you can bring that up as a reason why. "I hear they don't believe in air conditioning, " you could say, and you would be right. "Well," the Brits and Germans would say, "We go on holiday during the really hot months." Right, but where are they going?

SPAIN, where it's even hotter and there's still no air conditioning.

Sometimes I don't get that E.U.

Don't take back my passport, ok?

Oh, yeah, that's what my mom got me: my E.U. passport.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go, Proximo is screaming. Why? I give up!

THE Croissant Recipe

I would plan on these taking about 5 hours from start to finish. You're not working on them the whole time, but that's about as long as the recipe takes. The key to maintaining the flaky texture is to repeatedly chill the dough between working on it. You don't want to get the dough too hot or the obscene amount of butter you're using will melt and wreck the texture. When in doubt, stick it back into the fridge or freezer. I would also recommend a decent rolling pin, like this kind, which is easier to maneuverer and leverage. So here is the recipe. Please read through the whole thing before attempting The Feat.


Croissants by Paula Peck (and Azucar)

After years of experimentation with croissant recipes, I have finally discovered the knack of making perfect, flaky croissants at home. Actually, the proportions given in almost any standard recipe for croissants could be followed, if only the method for making and shaping them were clear (sing it sister!)

2 packages dry yeast, or 1 ounce fresh yeast
1 Tbl sugar (I actually increased this to a total of 2 Tbl, trust me)
2 tsp salt
4 cups BREAD flour
1 ½ cups cold unsalted (sweet) butter
1 cup cold milk (approx)
2 egg yolks mixed with 2 tsp cream

It is most important to use only a small amount of yeast in croissants so that the dough never rises before it is placed in the oven. If dry yeast is used, follow directions on package. If fresh yeast is used, cream it with sugar and salt to make a syrup. (I used ¾ cup of warm water and dissolved two packages of dry yeast into it. It is crucial that the water is 95-105 degrees because much warmer will kill the yeast—heat kills yeast, not cold—you can tell the correct temp because it will feel a little warmer than your fingers do.)
Place 3.5 cups flour in a large bowl. Make a well in the center. Add yeast, sugar, salt, and 2 tablespoons of the butter (cut into pieces and softened) and enough cold milk to make a medium-firm dough—NOT as firm as bread dough, but not sticky (I think of this as a little more firm than sweet roll dough.) Knead dough for a few minutes, only until smooth, not elastic (I used my stand mixer for the first part, and then turned the dough out onto the counter with flour and kneaded by hand until the dough was smooth.) If the dough is kneaded too long, the croissants will not be tender and flaky (this is a great tip—most of the problems with traditional bread doughs arise because you don’t knead them enough, it’s nice that you don’t knead as long. I’d say I kneaded the dough by hand for 3-4 minutes.) Place dough to rest in the refrigerator for 10 minutes.

While dough is resting, shape butter into a flattened brick, rolling it in some of the remaining flour to prevent sticking (I cut each cube in half lengthwise and placed the cubes into a squarish pattern side-by-side.) Place butter on a sheet of wax paper. Sprinkle it with flour and cover with another sheet of wax paper. Then roll out butter into a square ¼ inch thick. Cut square in half. Wrap pieces in wax paper and place in refrigerator.

Remove dough from the refrigerator and roll it out on a cloth well dusted with flour, making a rectangle about 3 times longer than it is wide (I just rolled on my well-floured countertop.)
Brush excess flour from surface of dough. Place a piece of butter in the center. Fold ONE end of dough over butter. Place remaining butter on top. Fold second end of dough over butter. Press edges together to seal.

Place dough on cloth so that the short ends are parallel to the edge of the table nearest you. Roll out on floured cloth into a long rectangle as before. Brush off excess flour. Fold both ends to meet in the center. Then fold once more, in half, as if you were closing the pages of a book, making 4 layers.

Press all edges together. Wrap and chill for one hour. Place dough on floured cloth, again being sure that the short ends are parallel to the edge of the table nearest you (to tell you the truth, I kind of just moved the dough around so that I could get the correct leverage on rolling it out.) Roll out dough into a long rectangle. Fold ends to meet in the center, then fold once again as before.

Chill dough at least 2-3 hours, or until it is very cold (It was at this point that I chilled my dough for 6 hours, so if you need to leave your dough for a while, it will be ok to chill in the fridge.)
Cut dough in half. Roll out each half separately into a sheet 1/8 of an inch thick (chill half not being worked on.) Cut into long strips 5 inches wide (After rolling out one half, I ended up cutting it down the middle lengthwise for two long strips.) Divide strips into triangles (the easiest way is to use a sharp paring knife, or even a pizza cutter, and cut the dough strip through alternating diagonal cuts.) Roll up widest side of the triangles toward opposite point fairly tightly, stretching slightly as you roll to make them longer. DO NOT try to shape further for now. First, chill rolls in freezer for ½ hour.

Then, removing only 4-5 at a time, make each into a thinner, longer, and more compact shape by rolling it firmly against the surface with open palm of hand (ok, ok, I was tired at this point and did as many as would fit onto a baking sheet at a time. Roll them like a modified snake, paying special attention to tapering the ends.) Place on a greased baking sheet, curving each into a croissant (I brought the edges together to make a circle—they’ll loosen in the oven.) Chill again until very cold (you could actually freeze the formed rolls at this point.)

Set oven to 475 degrees.

Brush rolls with egg yolks mixed with cream. Place in preheated oven for 5 minutes. Reduce heat to 400 degrees. Continue baking about 8-9 minutes longer, or until croissants are golden brown (There is carry-over cooking time, so once the rolls are out of the oven they will still be cooking for a few minutes. If you try to eat one immediately out of the oven they will seem too doughy—wait for the carry-over time to finish the croissant. If you are baking completely frozen rolls, bake for about 12-14 minutes at the 400 degree stage.)

Yield: approx 3 dozen

Note: These freeze well after baking

Is It Possible?

Oh the years I have searched.

I have tried recipe after recipe, tip after tip. I heard rumors about an ancient cookbook by Paula Peck called The Art of Fine Baking. A quick trip to a used online bookstore and I had both Peck's book and one by famed French Patissier LeNôtre. Cost me six bucks, including S&H, for both--wooot!

The Quest: Real, actual, authentic croissants from my home oven.

I have been reading every delicious word and sage piece of advice from two faded stars of twentieth century baking. The housework slipped, I stopped reading fiction, even our beloved DCI Jane Tennison had to wait. Soon, I couldn't even blog anymore. Just the idea that I could have found the right recipe gripped me in the heat of obsession. Had I finally found the homemade croissant recipe of my dreams?

The answer is...

YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES!

Dear Paula Peck, You are a genius.

You, and your four pages of detailed directions which I followed as if under papal edict.

Flaky, crispy, tender; as if Paris itself had rolled into a flour-butter-yeasty piece of heaven and mailed itself to my door.

By JOVE I think I've done it!

Can you have one? Only if I don't eat them all first.

My apologies for the low quality cell phone photos, my digital cam needs batteries. Who can remember batteries when baking is on the brain?

Dominos, Dominos

Gavrilo Princip was hanging out with his fellow students getting really angry. As is the usual preoccupation in Serbia, they were upset about Serbian Nationalism. (In the past few decades an idea had become en vogue; you were part of a larger group, a nation; something that had always been. Before the mid 1800s there was no real idea of nations. You didn’t identify with
being American or English, you’d be a Virginian or a Scot.)

Gavrilo and his friends decided that if they could kill the guy in charge of their country, or the number two, that they might be able to break free and Serbia could be its own country. They even gave themselves a nifty nickname, The Band of the Black Hand!

That is how, on a warm June day in 1914, Gavrilo was eating a sandwich at a quiet cafe when the number two guy’s car accidentally turned down the wrong street right past that cafe. Gavrilo ran to the open motor coach of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and drew his pistol, shooting and killing the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne and his wife, Sophie, touching off a cascade of dominos that lead to:

1. WWI
1. Austria, and her ally Germany,
   moved to action against the Serbs, who naturally called on their fellow Slavs, the Russians.
2. The ruin of Europe and the Ottoman Empire (15 million dead)
3. Russia so mismanaged the war, 3.7 million Russians died (30% of the total WWI
   deaths) 5 million wounded, that a civil war broke out.
4. Germany, forced to pay war reparations descended into chaos, and finally


2. The Rise of Hitler, Fascism, and Communism
1. The reparations and blame for WWI created the need of the German people to
   restore their dignity and place the blame of their situation on someone
   else. Just the impetus Hitler needed.
2. Fascism rose all over Europe: Italy, Spain.
3. The Bolsheviks won the Russian Civil war leading to a strict stripe of Communism that paved the way for
   i. Stalin, murderer of 20 million (during the 1930s) and 34-37 million over all.

3. WWII
1. Self-explanatory
   i. 50 million dead.

4. The Cold War
1. Former WWII allies Russia and the U.S are on tenterhooks over Germany
   i. Russia is wary of Germany rising again, after two consecutive invasions, decides that it needs some buffer states between the motherland and Deutschland.
   ii. The U.S., not understanding, decides on a policy of containing the Russians yielding iii. The Iron Curtain
2. The Bomb.
3. U.S. and USSR fight proxy battles all over the world.
   i. Korea, Algeria, Congo, you name it (OK.)
   ii. Vietnam
   iii. Afghanistan
4. When Russia invades Afghanistan the U.S. gives support, arms, and aid to the Mujahadin rebels fighting the communists, including a very militant wing of young freedom fighters called The Taliban.
5. Dictators
   i. USSR allows totalitarian dictators to rule Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Rumania, Bulgaria, and others.
   ii. The U.S. gives aid and comfort to such dictators as Idi Amin, Mobutu Sese Seko, the Shah of Iran, and Saddam Hussein.
   1. Buyer’s Remorse:
   
6. The Soviet Union is effective at surpressing nationalistic feelings in her satellite states. i. When the USSR falls apart those feelings return causing


5. Balkanization, Georgia, Rwanda, Congo, Chechen War, etc.
1. Chechnya, wishing to break away from Russia launches a rebellion in the name of nationalism, which yields more than 300,000 dead including
   i. The 331 angel children murdered on the first day of school in Beslan after Chechen rebels seized the school.
2. Yugoslavia breaks up (“Balkanization) into various Balkan states including Serbia
3. A Serbian nationalist guy named Slobodan Milosevic decides that the Serbs have had enough of other people ruling them and starts a few wars resulting in
   i. The rape of women and children, torture and death of 300,000 people including
   ii. The massacre of 8,100 little boys and men at Srebrenica.

So, let me ask you, what’s your opinion of Serbian Nationalism?

Because mine, let me tell you, ain’t good.