not the sexiest vegetable, but a tasty one

Julienned mao gua and thinly sliced matsutake mushrooms

“Mao gua,” he said, nodding his head knowingly.

I thought I heard him right, but I asked again, just to make sure. Hairy gourd. He’d said it was a hairy gourd. That made sense, but still, that’s an awfully graphic name. I asked him how one might go about cooking it, to which the Professor felt the need to call in reinforcement. He called out to an older woman picking over a crate of carrots, and she looked me up and down.

Satisfied, I took one of the beasts home, and it sat on our kitchen counter for two days while I eyed it suspiciously and tried to think of more attractive names for it (Fuzzy Melon? Bearded Cucumber? Hirsute Pre-Pickle?) Eventually, I gave up on finding monikers for my little friend and snapped a few pictures of it from different angles. I sent the photos to my dad, who I consider to be the Master Chef Guru of All Cooking Ever. He had a cold, so he wasn’t really up for my shenanigans, but he coughed out the instructions to my mother, who passed the message along.

I took down all of his further advice, spinning the hairy gourd on its axis a couple of times to make sure I knew what I was dealing with. Then, earlier today, I decided it was time to tackle the second hairiest thing in my house (the first being, of course, the hubby). There were only a couple of hiccups. First, I’d forgotten to purchase dried shrimp. Even though I’ve eaten them a thousand times in my family’s cooking and enjoyed them very much, I just couldn’t bring myself to buy any. I can’t explain it, really. Maybe it’s the stale brininess of the dried shrimp that I’m not excited about working with. Secondly, I had a chicken that I’d purchased from Imbi Market earlier this week, and we needed to eat it today (insert unpleasant stale-chicken-in-the-refrigerator-joke-here). Thirdly, what I thought I’d purchased as glass noodles were actually flat rice noodles, like the ones used in pad thai, and were, in fact, nothing like glass noodles.

Nevertheless, I decided to forge ahead. I peeled my hairy gourd and julienned it, then sliced two matsutake mushrooms. Based on a recipe I found, I stir-fried some sliced garlic in oil, adding the gourd and mushrooms after the garlic became aromatic. When the vegetables became slightly soft, I threw in a half-cup of my homemade shrimp broth and a few tablespoons of oyster sauce and let everything saute for awhile. Once the vegetables were fully cooked, I tossed in my flat noodles, stir-fried it a bit more, and garnished it with minced scallions and fried crispy garlic slivers. This dish was a side to our favorite roast chicken.

We really enjoyed the hairy gourd — it was fresh and crispy. I’ll definitely try making it again. Next time, though, I’ll do it the “right” way, and I’ll tackle my fear of dried shrimp and use the right noodles. If it works, I’ll give you the recipe. For today, I just wanted to let you know that I fought a hairy gourd, and it tasted kind of good.