I first heard of a stroopwafel in my early twenties when a colleague of mine went to The Netherlands for a work trip, and as a treat to bring back for the office, she presented us with bags and bags of these little flat waffle-like sandwich cookies with caramel filling. “Stroopwafels are the best!” she said. “You haven’t lived until you have eaten one of these!” I had one of them, and while I enjoyed it and how soft it was, I wasn’t particularly impressed. They were tasty, yes, caramelly, a bit gooey, soft and with a hint of crunch. But I didn’t find this life changing at all, nor did I think it was anything I would want to haul back to the U.S. with me after visiting Europe.

That was about 9-10 years ago. Now that the world is becoming more cosmopolitan and well, worldly, stroopwafels have already landed right here stateside. Gourmet and on-trend food vendors sourcing stroopwafel-like cookies are eagerly distributing to many American stores, so now, we can easily find these same stroopwafels in our local Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods Markets — heck, some airport stand are even selling these individually packaged.

Fast forward to today, when I finally got to have a freshly made stroopwafel, and yes, this time, my life kind of was changed. Let’s just say right now that a freshly made stroopwafel CANNOT be compared to any old packaged stroopwafel We were at the Albert Cuyp Market in Amsterdam during our last morning before taking a train to Brussels, and we went to the cart that was marked as the original stroopwafel – Rudi’s Original Stroopwafels.

Stroopwafels (this literally means “syrup waffle” in Dutch) originated in Gouda (“HOW-da” the town, yes, of the same name as the famous and delectable cheese) around the late 18th century. They are made with a thick dough flatted in a waffle-like iron, cooked until crispy, then deftly sliced in half. A half is spread with a warm caramel-like filling made from syrup, brown sugar, butter, and a mixture of spices. Then, the caramel begins to cool and set, ultimately binding these two delicious halves together again. According to legend, bakers in Gouda didn’t know what to do with leftover cookie crumbs from their baking, so they would mix together leftover cookie crumbs to form a dough and then shape this mixture into waffles. To sweeten these treats, bakers glued the waffles together with sugar syrup, forming a sweet snack out of ingredients that would have otherwise been thrown away. Eventually, other bakers in the Netherlands jumped on the bandwagon, turning stroopwafels into a national staple.

This freshly made stroopwafel, literally right in front of my eyes, was amazing. Our vendor nearly burned his fingers slicing the thin waffle in half, and in goes the oozing gooey deliciousness that is the golden caramel filling. Served piping hot, the edges are slightly crisp and the wafers are super chewy. And the caramel filling is a true delight: it oozes and sticks and stretches like crazy. It was so much fun to eat and film. And to add to the overall experience, our vendor who sold it to us was so friendly and even agreed to be filmed for our vlog. He discussed his family recipe and business, which his dad started, and he talked about how he continues the family tradition. Others try to copy, but theirs is the original and the best. We were lucky to come during the current month when it’s not as busy because during the summer months, which of course, is high season in Amsterdam, the queues can become quite long.

I don’t have any other fresh stroopwafels to compare this one to, but this was certainly the best stroopwafel I’ve ever had. I’m ruined for the packaged ones forever… not that I ever really cared for them to begin with, especially back home.

Before coming to Holland, what I understood to be a “Dutch apple pie” was an American apple pie, just with a crumb topping. That is NOT what apple pie or appeltaart/”apple tart” is in Holland, nor did that picture in my head prepare me for the life-altering experience I had at Winkle 43 today, a cafe in the Jordaan neighborhood of Amsterdam that has a renowned appeltaart. Multiple local and tourist guides mentioned Winkle 43, not to mention several colleagues who have lived in/are from Amsterdam. They told me I absolutely could not leave Amsterdam without having this tart. And so we went yesterday.

Winkle 43 is a cafe with ample indoor and outdoor seating. Though there may be queues, they are quite efficient with ordering, paying, and giving you your order on a tray. We opted to sit outside since there were no seats available indoors, plus outside, though cold, we’d disturb people less with our filming of my apple pie eating.

Here is what I learned yesterday about a real Dutch Apple tart: it is NOT baked in a regular American pie pan; instead, it’s actually baked in a cake pan, rather a springform pan, to allow for a super high crust and even more apple filling. The filling is big hunks of apples, not slices like in American apple pie; plus the filling is really just sugar with a touch of cinnamon. The top, bottom, and side crusts could be compared more to a biscuit or cookie, very sweet and could even stand on its own. It’s thick, too. If you were to break off a chunk of that crust and give it to me with zero context, I’d be satisfied and think you gave me a really, really delicious shortbread cookie/biscuit. Again, what I just described = NOT American apple pie crust.

Chris and I shared a slice of this sky-high apple tart, and after a single bite, I really regretted getting only one slice to share. That single piece of pie alone could have made this entire trip worth it: I’d never been more blown away by any pie in my life. The crust was just astounding — it was far sweeter than I anticipated, but in a very pleasing way — it seemed like it was made with large granules of sugar, perhaps some variation of a muscovado sugar. Each bite of the crust in my mouth was like a separate little bite of a cookie. And the apple chunks were delicious — oozing with apple flavor, a hint of spice, likely cinnamon and maybe one or two other things. While the bite of the apple remained and had some give, at the same time, some of the apples were just so custardy. I’d never had a more noteworthy apple pie experience ever before this.

And to literally top this all off, Winkle 43 makes their own housemade whipped cream regularly (you can actually see them adding the fresh cream into the whipping machine), lightly sweetened, and you can ask for it either on top of your pie or on the side. This really could not have gotten any better than it was that day.

I’m still thinking about how delicious this pie was. I need to replicate that pie at home someday soon. I’m adding it to my list already.

Prior to even researching Holland, I already knew that The Netherlands is a very bike-friendly country, so much so that in any given city there, you will probably notice that bikers outnumber cars by a long shot. Countless articles I’ve read, not to mention people I’ve met who have either lived, visited, or are from Amsterdam have noted that Amsterdam is very likely the most bike-friendly city in the world, that it could even be stated that bikes outnumber pedestrians, which is mind-boggling to me. The city of Amsterdam has about 400 kilometers (249 miles) of bike lanes. They usually run alongside the streets, but sometimes, it can get confusing when the bike lanes look to cut into pedestrian walk paths. And while bikes are supposed to stay in bike lanes since that’s what they are designed for, very often, you can see bikers in walking paths and on sidewalks. And this is when I, as a first-time visitor to Amsterdam, get confused.

I am all for a bike-friendly city. I do not bike (nor do I have any desire at all to bike, especially in a city like New York), yet I was excited to see all the new bike lanes that have been created throughout Manhattan. But while pedestrians typically have right-of-way when it comes to vehicles, here in Amsterdam, it seems like bikers have right-of-way… against virtually everyone — cars and pedestrians. Maybe it’s just because I’m a foreigner and just don’t “get it,” but why should a biker have right-of-way over a pedestrian? And why would you, as a biker, want to go against a pedestrian when you are a) not wearing a helmet (I didn’t see a single biker wearing a helmet here) and b) likely to fall off your bike in the event that you hit a pedestrian and then get injured?

Looking both ways doesn’t always help either. Several articles I’ve read have said that tourists tend to cause bikers to get into accidents because they do not look. I would argue that we actually are looking, but given some of the bike lanes curve and are not always clearly outlined to someone who isn’t familiar with the roads here, it’s hard to just assume pedestrians will see and understand all of this.

I didn’t realize how much I like cars until I realized how aggressive bikers could be.

The great thing about knowing people you like who live in places that are not your hometown is that when you visit these other places, you get a familiar and local face to spend time with. You can hear their perspective on the place you’ve chosen for your vacation/holiday. You can hear what they think about your “tourist” perspective on their city and get their feedback on whether you’re an idiot or not.

My colleague who is based in our Amsterdam office (who is also Dutch) and his girlfriend met us for dinner during our first night in their city, and it was a very warm welcome. After a red eye flight, a day of walking over 24,000 steps on streets, over bridges, and passing canals, Chris and I were both quite tired. It felt nice to sit in a warm restaurant over an Indonesian rice table and see a familiar friendly face and have familiar conversation. The food varied across the table from mild to very spicy, and they were not lying when they said it was hot!

The only downside of having friends in all these other places is that you will only see them sporadically, if at all. And he’s likely leaving the company soon, so who knows when I will see him again.

I flew into Atlanta this evening for a last minute customer meeting, and as an added bonus, was able to meet up with two friends for dinner at one of my favorite fried chicken spots that has come to Atlanta, Hattie B’s Hot Chicken. We sat, ate our chicken, Mac and cheese, collard greens, and banana pudding over long conversations about travel, politics, race, sexism, immigration, friends, school, and who knows what else to add to this list. Before I even knew it, four hours had flown by, and it was easily time to leave to get ready for bed and another day of work and meetings. “This always happens when we’re together — we talk so much and then we don’t even realize that all this time has passed!” one of them exclaimed.

That’s the thing — this couple is part of the “new friends” group, “new” as in, we’ve met in the last several years. I feel like we have more in common than friends I’ve had for a long time, some of whom I’ve probably outgrown, but I still spend time with them just because of old habits, even though I never leave the conversations feeling fulfilled or challenged to think about new topics the way I did tonight. If you leave an outing with your friends feeling unfulfilled, not listened to or appreciated, or just frustrated, it’s probably a sign that you shouldn’t be friends with them anymore. It’s hard to take that advice, though, isn’t it?

Oftentimes when people think about Orlando, they don’t normally think about good food. They think about tourists, the different theme parks ranging from Disney World to Universal Studios to Seaworld or Aquatica. And with that comes the dreaded thought of overpriced theme park food that is either too bland, too salty, and too expensive.

Having come here a number of times for work travel, I realize that Orlando actually has quite a number of good food options as long as you are open to spending a little time to research. Cuban food is quite plentiful and popular here. A handful of delicious “New American” type restaurants are sprinkled throughout the city, in downtown and outside. And funnily enough, this trip, when looking at restaurants within a close radius of my hotel in downtown Orlando, I even found a Laotian restaurant. I don’t believe I’ve ever been to an actual Laotian restaurant before. I had this delicious crispy sticky rice with pork served in lettuce wraps, as well as a dry spicy beef noodle dish that was quite fishy and fermented. The restaurant decor was quite attractive, too, with an entire wall painted to depict gorgeous elephants and even some random dragons.

If you look, you will find it. I certainly did. And as I ate my dinner, more and more diners came in to fill up all the seats in this casual eatery.

Every time I’ve come to LA over the years, I’ve always looked forward to it and enjoyed my time here. I love the endless diversity of the people here. The beaches are gorgeous. The weather is pretty much always sunny and warm. The diversity of people also means that the food here is represented from probably every culture on earth somewhere in the LA/Orange County area. There’s too much good food here in nearly every neighborhood and at every single price point. Al fresco dining is the norm. It’s hard to beat the quality of life in Southern California.

But then, I think about the number 1 thing I cannot stand about LA: the traffic. Every time I come here, I constantly wonder why there are always so many cars on the road, all this gridlock everywhere. It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s 3pm or 6pm; there’s always a traffic jam. It makes zero sense to me.

On a ride from Santa Monica to Hermosa Beach to meet my cousin and his family, the distance was only about 15 miles, yet the ride took nearly an hour! This is an everyday occurrence. In no traffic, it shouldn’t have taken more than 20 minutes, but once traffic hits, a 20-minute ride can easily become 1.25 hours long. And today, on the ride from Santa Monica to LAX, my initial Google Maps estimate said the ride should take 17 minutes given I was leaving at a quieter time. In the end, we got unlucky and hit traffic, and so that original 17-minute estimate ended up being 40 minutes.

I understand why people love LA; I love LA as a visitor. But I also understand why they hate it. This traffic is truly out of control and could easily suck the life out of me if I had to deal with it every single day.

Every time I come back to San Francisco, I am pretty overwhelmed with all the options, both old and new, for food. It’s definitely a fun “problem” to have, but I look forward to planning my trips around who I am planning to see, and what I am going to eat and drink. One of the fun places I knew I had to go to this time around was Garden Creamery, which was conveniently located just two blocks away from the restaurant where my friend and I were going to have dinner. It’s known for having a delicious and fun combination of Hawaiian and Asian flavors that change seasonally, from ube and pandan to matcha with toffee bits to kaya flavored ice cream. They use grass-fed, organic and local milk, and they also have a pretty large variety of vegan flavors to choose from, as well.

I chose the ube and pandan, plus the matcha gold (which has toffee bits), and I loved every last bite of each. The owner was actually scooping herself and was really friendly, and I just loved the variety of flavors available; it was so hard to make a choice! I couldn’t remember the last time I just kept licking my spoon after I finished my ice cream — it was that good.

It excites me to see that ice cream parlors are branching out with flavors that encompass how global of a world we live in now. There was not just one, but two varieties of green tea ice cream (the other one was genmaicha, toasted rice with green tea!), black sesame, ube, kaya, and many others that were so tempting and (naturally) colorful).

Day 1 of our conference was officially today, and on the main conference night, we always host a big party with food, entertainment, drink, and dancing. This year’s was at the August Hall venue, and it was pretty well done other than the fact that each floor had a temperature difference of at least 10 degrees each.

I was chatting with some customers who were coming from the same company, and a few of them were hovering around one of my customers, who is a known social butterfly and party animal. Last year at our conference, she partied so hard the last night that the next morning, she missed all the sessions and did the walk of shame out of the hotel room elevator bank at around noon, right when lunch had started. This year, they are all trying to look out for each other, so they told me that they have to keep a watchful eye out for her to make sure they don’t lose sight of where she goes.

This is when I laugh a little to myself about conference culture in general. There’s always going to be booze, and where there is booze, there will always be a threat or hint of inappropriate behavior. So while we say they are great learning experiences and some of the best opportunities for networking, they are also prime places for total debauchery.