Bleeding Fiction

One of my co-workers, a kind and elderly woman, is Dutch by birth and rearing. Finding me a friendly sort of fellow and about to leave to visit relatives back home a month ago, she asked what sort of chocolate I'd like to get back from Holland.

I smiled and told her that while, of course, no gift was truly necessary, if she really wanted to get me some sort of candy from the Netherlands, she could get me stroopwafels. Two thin cookie wafers with a layer of caramel in between, they're truly my favorite little pastry... thing. Served at room temperature, they're basically a chewy, over-sized cookie, but they're best in traditional Dutch fashion - get a hot mug of coffee (or tea, or cocoa) and cover the lip with the stroopwafel. The caramel inside will warm and gooify and absorb the aroma and flavor of your drink. Absolutely melts in your mouth.

I think I bought a tin of these when out visiting Zach a while ago, from some weird food import store near him, but the last time I'm sure I had them was about 5 years ago, when I was actually in Holland. But my co-worker came back today, with a little bag of stroopwafel in hand, just for me.

Wonderful, of course, but now I really want to go back to Holland.