The Garlic Luffa I Make When I Want Dinner to Stay Simple

Two luffas sat on the bottom shelf of the fridge inside a plastic bag tied loosely at the top. I bought them two days earlier from a street stall near the bus stop. The vendor had a folding table, a small scale, and a few piles of vegetables. She said the luffas came from her own garden. I picked two that felt heavy for their size. The bag went into the fridge when I got home. Yesterday I took them out. One had a shallow brown pressure mark near the middle. I trimmed that spot with the tip of a paring knife. The flesh under the skin was still pale green, so I left the rest of the skin alone. The other luffa looked clean. I put it back in the fridge for another day.

I started the rice before the garlic. The rice cooker sat on the counter beside the sink. I rinsed the rice twice, added water to the line, and pressed the switch. The steam came up after a few minutes.

The garlic came next. I broke one head into cloves and cut the hard root end off each clove. On the cutting board, I hit each clove twice with the flat side of the knife. The papery skins cracked open. I picked them out and dropped them into a small bowl for the bin. The peeled cloves went back onto the board. I chopped them until the pieces were about the size of soybeans, then gathered them into a small pile. A few bits had scattered to the edge of the board. I swept them back with my hand. The knife stayed on the board. I set the garlic pile on a saucer near the stove.

The luffa came last. I shaved off the scarred spots and left the skin on. Roll-cut chunks: one cut, a small turn, another cut, then the piece went to the edge of the pot. I kept the chunks thick enough to hold their shape. When the water boiled, I added a few drops of oil and a pinch of salt. The luffa went in. I counted forty seconds. A slotted spoon lifted it out and dropped it into a basin of cold water. The tap ran in a small stream for a moment. My hand went into the basin; the chunks had gone cool. I lifted them out and left them to drain in a basket set over a bowl. Water dripped through the holes and collected below. The basket sat beside the wok. I dried the counter with a cloth.

The wok got hot. Oil went in, then the garlic over low heat. Two pushes with the spatula. The garlic smell came up, and the luffa went in. I did not wait for the garlic to turn yellow. Medium heat, two or three flips. Salt, a little MSG, pepper. A little light soy sauce around the edge of the wok, a small spoon of oyster sauce, a pinch of sugar. Two or three more flips until the seasonings were even. A drizzle of sesame oil. Heat off. The luffa slid onto a plate. I turned off the exhaust fan and listened to it slow down.

The plate had only a thin layer of juice at the bottom. The chunks still held their shape. I picked one up with chopsticks. Green skin, pale green flesh, water when I bit in. Small bits of garlic clung to the surface. Not bitter, not burnt. I ate it with a bowl of white rice. The rice was hot and a little sticky. I finished the plate and carried it to the sink. The tap ran warm, then cool. The bottom of the plate came clean. I wiped the cutting board and put the knife back in the block. The garlic skins went into the bin. The basket and bowl went into the dish rack. One more luffa is still in the fridge. I will make this again tomorrow.