My mother was born in Vienna as my grandmother was leaving on a boat to come to America. One of our great-aunts came over this past summer and told some incredible stories of the past. German artillery set on the family farm pointed to the valley below...having to sneak back into your own house to gather belongings during occupation by German soldiers...coming home from school and being strafed by aerial machine gun fire because they'd shoot at anything that was moving, including school children. I guess my mother as a baby was crying from hunger because they ran out of food on the cargo boat to America, and a kind woman gave my grandmother some money to buy food for her upon landing. Crazy stuff. Don't even get me started on the food. I'll take homemade spaetzle with some paprika chicken. I'm still trying to recreate the recipes of my grandparents. Shame I was too young to care before they passed.