I love my mom's grape leaves, or an Arabic we call it water-ine-up.

Each grape leaf is like a battlefield of flavor stuffed with rice and meat, lots of warm

spices and a lemony kick.

This dish always reminds me of my mother's Palestinian kitchen.

It was the dish mama made when she wanted to spoil us, or when we invited people over.

This was the main center of attention on the dining table.

Making water-ine-up though is not an easy process.

It can take hours rolling each grape leaf, and it takes hours to cook on the stove top.

It's a sort of food that's best to make in groups.

It kind of becomes like a social event.

I remember it would be my mom, my aunt, my cousins, my grandmother.

We'd all gather around, our hands kneading into the table as we stuff and roll our grape

leaves.

We talk and laugh and gossip.

My mom and aunt would argue about whose rolling skills were better.

My teeth I would tell them they're both doing it wrong.

Things felt so precise, but the thing is they weren't following a recipe.

They knew how to do it all by heart.

Now I've tried recreating this dish many times.

It's turned out differently.

And sometimes I put the pot on the stove for too long, so the food burns.

Sometimes I watch the grape leaves burst open.

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