Between… Some time in college… and November 4, 2008, I looked at moving to the Netherlands. I was never particularly serious about it, but I preferred it to Canada. It had a bit to do with politics, a lot to do with not being as crazy as things were here, and nothing to do with legal prostitution or “coffee shops. What began as a not-really-serious “backup plan” to a third Republican term gave way to an appreciation for a really neat place. Obama won and I thought things might start to turn around. I’m still not entirely confident about that, but I stopped investigating emigration. (For what it’s worth, it turns out that the Netherlands, somewhat like Canada, really doesn’t want anyone to come unless they have a good job already lined up. Why a Dutch firm would want to hire someone who doesn’t speak a lick of Dutch is beyond me.)
However, I recently began thinking about moving to the Netherlands again. This time, it has nothing to do with Republicans, Glenn Beck, the economy, or anything of the sort. It has to do with stroopwafels. I bought some at Trader Joe’s. They’re soft crackers (not a very accurate description) filled with caramel. That’s not a great description either. Wikipedia does a better job. But really, you have to eat them to fully appreciate them. And then, when you read the Wikipedia page about huge stroopwafels, made with cinnamon, served hot, freshly made, on the streets of Amsterdam, you, too, are going to start looking at emigrating to the Netherlands.