Her Mom's Hands.

God Bless Wendy. She was one of the first Chaldean women in the USA. She came straight to Detroit, with her brother, not knowing a soul. Since she was one of the first to be here - there wasn't many people she could talk to so I guess she decided she better learn to speak english fast. She did. She graduated from Mumford, started beauty school and made her living in a salon (beauty parlor back then.)

She got married and raised a family. She never once wanted to go back to her country. She was an American.

Wendy cooked her ass off. She could put Emeril, Rachael Ray and the best of em to shame. She would make enough food for 30 people just in case someone came over and was hungry. Her daughter Ann, never interested in learning how to cook but always interested in eating would never learn her mothers craft. For 30 years we told Wendy to open a restaurant but she never did.

If you lived within 3 blocks of Wendy's house you were fat. I think you know why.

If you scratched your toe she would make a big pot of rice and stew. If your best friends, uncles, cousin from marriage would die. Wendy would bring a platter of homemade something to the house. Trust me - everything on that platter would be gone. Maybe, the plate got licked.

When we were younger Wendy would take us to the beach. Not to swim. Not to play in the sand but to EAT! Sandwiches, fruit, drinks, snacks, and whatever else would fit in the cooler and 3 bags. We went to Cedar Point. The station wagon held 8 but only 6 could go because of the food.

Wendy never used a recipe card and never used a measuring cup or spoon. She has tried teaching people how to cook but none have learned. It was just Wendy's hands. Her style. Her touch.

For years Wendy has made this one dish that I love. I love all of her dishes and she will share her secrets. I decided to ask her to teach me or just give me the ingredients for this one meat dish. She did.

I bought all 8 of the things she told me to buy. She explained in detail exactly what to do down to the way you shape the meat once it's all mixed together.

Ground beef, All Spice, garlic, salt, pepper, bread crumbs and some other stuff. I couldn't wait to go home and have my kitchen smelling as beautiful as hers.

I mixed it all up and BAM! I made the dish and it came out tasting like a hamburger. I asked Wendy what did I do wrong? Why didn't it taste like a great Arabic dish? She asked me "did you buy all of the stuff I told you to?" I said "yes." She said "did you fry it in oil?" I said "YES! What did I do wrong?" Then her daughter-in-law said "You know Wendy doesn't use measurements. She just knows how much to put in with her fingers." Ding Dong the bells went off. I didn't know how much to put in. Anyone want cheese on their burger?