I must say there are quite a few things I like about Holland, like the pragmatic and straightforward attitude of its people, the fact that I feel very little racial discrimination and the beautiful scenery surrounded by water.

But if I'm asked for one thing that I'm not so happy with, I have to say it's the food here.

The traditional Dutch fare of stampot (potatoes literally "stamped in a pot" with other vegetables and topped with sausage or other meat) is quite nice.

Although one gourmet Asian friend rudely says it is "horse feed" for its simplicity, it's popular even among some trendy people abroad who call it "soul food."

There also are some high-standard French, Italian, Asian, etc., restaurants.

But those are exclusively for evening meals, which often require three hours of sitting in candlelight.

Certain restaurants, such as the "sustainable" Umoja Restaurant in Amsterdam, which uses organic, fair-trade products and MSC (Marine Stewardship Council)-certified fish, is also popular among the environment-conscious Dutch.

But having small children, it's not easy for me to spend three hours for an evening meal, though it would almost be the only occasion when I can eat an acceptable warm meal out.

People (like you) living in a country like Japan are completely spoiled when it comes to food. I remember with amazement how I could eat the most exquisite cuisines from all over the world close to The Japan Times' office in such a short lunch break and inexpensively.

Here, it's quite normal for the Dutch to eat exactly the same things (bread with a slice of cheese, ham, etc.) for breakfast and lunch.

The habit of eating sandwiches is so strong that some friends of my 4-year-old refuse to eat anything but that, even for evening meals.

The result is disastrous for an Asian living in a middle-size city like me. No ramen, no Indian curry, not even fake Chinese takeout sushi.

Lunchrooms serve the usual cold fare with two exceptions. Croquettes, which are actually quite nice, and what is called uitsmijter — a piece of bread topped with a fried egg with meat or cheese, which the Dutch courteously eat with a knife and fork.

The food situation is slightly better in the big cities. But the fact that 80 percent of restaurants stay closed during weekday lunchtime in Amsterdam's Chinatown, one of the largest, and just a step away from the Central Station, is for me a symbol of the Dutch lack of passion for food and consequently, lack of business for Chinese restaurateurs.

Talking about Chinese restaurateurs, another problem for me is the high percentage of Japanese restaurants here that are actually Chinese.

As in many parts of the world, Japanese cuisine recently is also popular here and the Chinese, seeing that it can fetch more money than Chinese food, run many "Japanese" restaurants.

But those have a different standard from real Japanese restaurants and often hold strange performances, like throwing food onto customer's plates — and often missing.

I remember the excitement 10 years ago when a Japanese restaurant was being built in my neighborhood. I was so happy that I passed in front of it every day to witness the sushi counter and teppanyaki tables being brought in.

So one day when I saw the restaurant sign put out saying "Nagoya," I was quite disappointed.

For a Japanese, unless the owner is from the city, it is quite unusual to name a restaurant "Nagoya" — the city is known in Japan for its somewhat unusual food.

My fears were correct. The restaurant was indeed Chinese owned.