Last updated September of 2026
Welcome to the privacy house rules of the XIAOFUDI website, a place run as a waffle iron bakehouse for operators of Stroop Dutch Waffles, LLC across the United States. This page tells you plainly what information we see when you read the site, why we see it, how we look after it and what you can do about it. The company that answers for this site is Stroop Dutch Waffles, LLC, and the developer who built and tends the doors is StroopWaffle. Together we treat the smallest crumb of your data with the same care a good baker gives each order: nothing is grabbed, nothing is wasted, and nothing is left out on the counter where the wrong hands could reach it.
Please read this whole page before you use the order slip or share anything on the contact counter. If a term here sits oddly with you, close the oven door politely and write to mail@xiaofudi.lat with your question, and a real person will answer within two working days. This policy is a set of promises, not a string of riddles, so every section below is written in the same plain words we would use across the counter.
About this policy
This policy covers every page of the XIAOFUDI website, whether you land on the home page, read the service notes, open the order slip on the contact page, or follow the counter link that opens your own mail reader. It also covers the single enquiry channel that ties all of those pages together: the honest conversation that begins when you press the iron and ask a question.
The purpose of the bakehouse is to design and run computer integrated systems for people who operate waffle businesses. Because the work touches sensitive corners of a shop such as stock, sales and staff schedules, we believe a clear privacy policy is part of good craft, not an afterthought stacked on the shelf out of sight. You should know before you ask the first question what we keep and what we let go.
This policy belongs to Stroop Dutch Waffles, LLC of 230 E Wilson Ave, Salt Lake City - 84115-1936, United States (US). The developer StroopWaffle is the hands that run the code, but the company fronts the promise. Where this page says we, it means the company and the developer acting as one careful baker of the site.
Information we receive
We receive two broad families of information. The first family arrives because you choose to hand it over: your name, your email address, and the words you type into the message box when you place an order slip. The second family arrives almost without being asked, because any web server sees a small trail of details whenever a browser calls a page, such as the date and time of a visit, the rough region where the request came from and the type of device you held.
We do not bug the oven room for secrets. We never ask for a password, a credit card number raised while a batch cools, a full street mail address purely for the joy of the book, or any private detail that has nothing to do with a question about waffle systems. If you should ever receive an enquiry from us demanding such a thing, set it aside and tell us, because no honest baker asks for a key it does not need to open the shop.
When you write through the order slip, your words leave your browser through your own mail reader rather than through a hidden web form. That means the only copy of your message held on our side is the ordinary mail copy that arrives in the shop inbox, which is exactly what you would expect from handing a note across a real counter.
Information you give us directly
The order slip asks for four pieces of information: a name so we know who made the enquiry, an email address so we can write back, an optional subject so the note reaches the right shelf, and the message itself. None of these are forced beyond what sound sense requires. You may leave the subject blank, and you may use the name you are comfortable sharing, so long as we have a way to reach you.
If you prefer a spoken word, you may call +16813983817 during the hours listed on the contact page. The same simple rules apply to a phone call as to a note: we listen so we can help, we do not record the line, and we never pass the call or its subject to anyone outside the tiny team that tends the counter.
You are never bound to say anything at all. Reading the service notes and the home page requires no identity and no welcome name. We would far rather you read at your own pace with the door ajar than hand over a single detail you feel uneasy about. The counter stays open for a quiet reader just as it stays open for the loudest enquiry.
Information gathered on its own
When you open any page of the bakehouse, the web server that holds the site records a small set of technical crumbs: the day and hour of your visit, the page you asked for, the bundle of letters known as a user agent that tells the server what kind of browser and screen you run, and an address number tied to your network that lets the server send the page back to where your request began.
We use these technical crumbs for the plain chores of a shop: to keep the ovens lit, to notice if the site stumbles under a busy rush, to guard the door against a flood of unwanted robot traffic, and to catch a broken page before a real guest reaches it. We do not stitch your browsing into a portrait of who you are, and we do not sell those crumbs to any thirsty neighbour.
As a rule we prefer the smallest possible spoonful. Where a technical crumb is not needed to run the page or defend the oven, we let it fall away on its own rather than keep a record that might quietly grow cold and stale on a shelf.
How we use your information
Every crumb we keep is put to a named purpose. The name and the words you write are used to understand your batch and to answer your question about enterprise systems integration, custom software architecture, cloud design, legacy modernisation, data pipelines or service management platforms. Your email address is used solely to send the answer back and, only if you ask, to tell you that the iron has grown warm again with an update that concerns your own enquiry.
We do not build a mailing list from stray order slips, and we do not add your address to a newsletter unless you say the two clear words that invite it. Where an enquiry sits somewhere between a note and a draft that needs no follow up, we treat it the way a baker treats a cooled tray: useful until it has plainly done its work, then cleared so the counter stays tidy.
If you later become a client and we run a real engagement, the purposes may widen to the practical needs of that work, such as arranging a call about your shop or drawing up a plan of the systems you want baked. In every case the purpose is announced, plain and early, and nothing about you is used in a way you would not expect from a shop that says what it does.
When we share information
The short answer is that we share almost nothing. We do not sell your information to anyone. We do not rent it, trade it, or slip it into a parcel with a third party order of waffle batter. The doors of this bakehouse do not open to advertisers or brokers of personal details, and no button or pixel on this site quietly passes your name along a wire to a far shop.
The exceptions are narrow and honest. Where the law obliges us to answer a lawful order from a court or a regulator, we will, after checking as far as we are able that the order is genuine and within its rightful reach. Where we hire a service provider to run a part of the bakehouse, such as the mail shelf that holds the inbox or the web host that keeps the ovens warm, that provider may handle your details only for the minute purpose we assign and only under our instruction.
Finally, if the whole company should one day be sold like a well loved shop changing hands, the buyer would take the ordinary records with it so the counter could keep serving without a cold gap. You would be told of such a change, and the promises in this policy would travel with the batch to the new owner until they choose to rewrite them out loud.
Service providers and the recipes we outsource
A bakehouse is honest about which pans it can spare. We run the code and the design ourselves, but a few everyday chores sit with trusted services, exactly as a baker might buy flour from a mill rather than thresh its own wheat. The two flour mills we lean on most are the company that hosts the site and holds its pages, and the company that carries the shop mailbox where your order slips arrive.
Each provider receives only the slice of information its chore demands, is bound by its own promise not to farm our counters, and is told plainly not to keep a copy a day longer than the chore needs. We review these arrangements with a fresh eye whenever the season turns, because a mill that grows careless about flour should lose our custom just as a baker would lose a customer.
No provider on our shelf has any right to sell your details, to read your message for its own appetite, or to use your name for a scheme that has nothing to do with answering your enquiry. If a provider should ever break that promise, we would stop using it and tell you plainly what happened on our side of the counter.
Privacy for children
This bakehouse is a business kitchen for grown ups who run waffle shops, and it is not aimed at children. We do not knowingly collect information from a child under the age of thirteen through the order slip or any other door, and we do not shape this site to pull a child over the threshold with games or tricks.
Because the counter asks for an email address and real words about a business, it is not a tool a small child should carry alone. We rely on the good sense of families to keep very young guests out of the order slip, just as we would keep a small hand away from a hot iron.
If a parent or guardian learns that a child under thirteen has somehow left an order slip in our mailbox, the remedy is gentle and quick: write to mail@xiaofudi.lat, and we will remove that message and every trace of the growing writer from our shelves within a reasonable number of working days and confirm to the family that the slate is clean.
Cookies and small marks left in the browser
The bakehouse runs on modest habits. We do not set a forest of tracking cookies on your browser, and we do not chase you from page to page with a banner asking what you bought and when. At most the site may leave the smallest kind of housekeeping mark that remembers nothing about you as a person and exists only to keep a session tidy while you read.
Because every browser and every reader has a taste of its own, our advice is simple: if your browser shows you how to switch a mark off or to refuse the smallest crumb, feel free to do so. Losing such a mark will not close any page of this shop to you, and the oven wall will greet you just as warmly with it off as with it on.
If a future change of recipe ever introduced a cookie that followed you, this page would be rewritten out loud before the new batch went into the oven, so a quiet reader would never meet a surprise crumb in the batter.
How we keep the batch safe
A warm counter attracts the eye, and a busy inbox attracts both friends and thieves. We treat the safety of your words like the safety of the dough: it is kept behind a closed door, watched while it rests, and handled only by hands that have a reason to touch it. The site itself is served over a locked connection so a message leaving your side is scrambled against casual snoops along the road.
The shop inbox that receives your order slips sits behind the same protection any careful business uses: a strong lock on the door, an eye on who enters, and the habit of clearing away what is no longer needed. These are ordinary, sensible measures grown from years of minding ovens, not a promise of a perfect world that no honest baker would make.
If a door should ever be forced and your details should come to harm, we would not hide the smoke behind the wall. We would tell the people whose words were touched, and where the law asks it, we would tell the right office too, and we would sweep the floor and mend the lock before the counter opened again.
How long we hold information
We keep your note only as long as it has a warm job to do. A simple question that gathers its answer and cools is cleared from the shelves once the answer has made its journey back to you and no thread of the conversation still needs its thread. A note that grows into a real engagement is kept for the span that the work truly needs, plus the short season after completion that good records request so nothing is lost if a question arrives a little late.
The technical crumbs that the server gathers for its own safety are rolled off the edge after a short span measured in days or weeks, never hoarded for years to feed a portrait that no one asked to paint. When a crumb has served its turn, it is treated like a cold tray that has finished its day: cleared, not treasured.
Nobody can promise to erase the exact echo that the law insists on keeping, and this policy does not. Where a rule of law or a lawful order says a record must stay a little longer on the shelf, it stays, but only for the narrowest reason the law names, and only until that reason cools.
Your rights over your own data
You are the baker of your own batch, and the counter hands you a fair set of rights. You may ask us to show you what we hold about you, and we will lay the crumbs on the table for your own eyes, not for the room at large. You may ask us to correct a mistake, such as a misspelt name or an email address that has a stray dot, and we will tidy it gladly.
You may ask us to clear your note away if it has finished its job, subject to the narrow legal needs named above, and you may pull back a consent you once gave without being asked for a reason. You may also ask us to hold your words still rather than pass them along while you think a matter over, and we will respect that pause like an iron kept warm but not pressed.
To raise any of these requests, write to mail@xiaofudi.lat and name the right you would like to use. We answer every such request within a reasonable span and never punish the questioner by closing the counter on them, because a shop that punishes a polite question is a shop that has forgotten what the counter is for.
Your California privacy rights
Guests who live in California hold a few extra keys under the laws of their own state. If you shop from California, you may ask us once a year what personal information we hold about you and what we have shared with anyone outside the narrow service providers named above. The honest answer to the second question is short: we share none of it for the money of a stranger, and we never sell your details to anyone.
Where the law grants a do not sell request, you are welcome to make it, and we will honour it completely because there is no back shelf where your name quietly waits to be traded. The door of this bakehouse does not open that way, whether you ask or not.
We do not treat guests differently because they have asked to see their own records. A guest from California who opens a request gets the same warm service, the same answer within the same days, and the same plain manners as any other guest who stands at the counter, no coin of favour demanded in exchange.
Where information travels
The bakehouse serves the United States, and the company fronting this promise is a United States company at 230 E Wilson Ave, Salt Lake City - 84115-1936, United States (US). The web host that keeps the ovens warm may keep its presses in the United States, and your order slip makes its journey to a mailbox that lives in the same family of laws.
If a service provider winds up holding your details in a place outside the United States, we choose that provider carefully and require it to guard the batch at least as well as our own shelf does. We do not scatter your crumbs to every region of the map for the sake of a cheaper stamp, and the far hand that helps us is a hand we have looked in the eye first.
In plain terms, your words mostly stay under the same roof, and where they do cross a border it is only because the ovens we rent happen to stand there, not because we spent your details on a ticket to a far fair.
Changes to this policy
A bakehouse grows, recipes change and the law turns the heat up or down, so this page may someday need a new coat. When it does, the new reading will be posted right here at the same counter, with a fresh date at the top so you can tell at a glance whether the batter has changed since your last visit.
A change that quietly waters down a promise would be a poor way to run a shop, so the guiding rule is this: we never slip a smaller promise past a quiet reader. If a change would narrow the protection you hold under these words, we will call it out clearly rather than bury it at the bottom of a long shelf of text.
Continued use of the site after a change appears counts as acceptance of the new version, the ordinary custom of any counter, but we would rather you read the new page than simply accept it by reflex. Ask a question if a change confuses you, and we will talk it through across the wood.
Questions and how to reach us
If any sentence of this policy leaves a crumb on your mind, the remedy is the same one that answers every question in the bakehouse: ask. Write to mail@xiaofudi.lat and put privacy in the subject line so the note lands on the right shelf, or call +16813983817 during the shop hours named on the contact page and speak to a person who knows what the words on this page mean.
The post also reaches us the old way at the letter box of the company, whose full address reads Stroop Dutch Waffles, LLC, 230 E Wilson Ave, Salt Lake City - 84115-1936, United States (US). Begin the note to the attention of the shop, and the right hand will open it.
Thank you for reading to the end of the counter. However you choose to visit this bakehouse, whether you leave an order slip or slip away as a quiet guest, you are welcome here, and we hope the ovens are warm whenever you next press the door. This page was written and tended by StroopWaffle on behalf of Stroop Dutch Waffles, LLC.