Our living room has been living large of late. Stretched out, at ease. It hasn’t offered anyone a seat, screened a movie or shelved a book in months. It’s been lounging.
Not that the room’s to blame. Just before New Year’s my husband and I engaged in preparty panic. Thinking traffic flow, we shoved aside some of the heavier roadblocks, like the couch reupholstered in dogshed. We hoisted it here, then there, and finally decided it looked best in the garage. Soon we achieved the clean, crisp look best described as empty.
Which worked, for a time. Specifically 9 p.m. December 31st to 2 a.m. January 1st. Then the sparse look started to look deserted. The unfettered floor makes a fine field for the marble shootout, soccer match or fetch championship. But for those family members who prefer the leisurely pursuit-say, loafing-the room lacks a certain something. Or a certain everything.
Which is why one morning, just after Sunday-school drop-off, we attempted the 2-hour-and-29-minute redecorating spree.
We sped antiqueward. Got lost. Got found. Found a daybed, Belgian, circa 1880, designed perhaps for the decorous faint, public nap or unwelcome guest. We gave it a testslouch, settling in face-to-face. It offered more give than the bare floor. And less comfort than the new garage decor.
Practicing indecision, we decamped to a cafe and ordered the endive salad.
Under normal workweek conditions we despise endive salad. We wish it would go back to where it came from. Belgium. Or the 1980s. It tastes like nothing, with dressing.
But this sumptuous salad was different. Its lotus-shaped leaves were warmed with bacon, cushioned with blue cheese and speckled with pine nuts. It was welcoming and intriguing at once, like that elusive sofa, the one that both looks good and feels good.
Lazy as lotus-eaters, we stabbed at salad and sofa strategy for 20 minutes-our longest tete-a-tete all year.
Then it was time to careen home, collect the children and give up on home decorating until the next installment of Sunday school. During that interval between where’s-your-homework and look-what-I-made, they teach values. Like the value of 2 1/2 hours of parental down time, in which to ponder living room and living well.
ENDIVE SALAD
Serves four
5 heads Belgian endive
1 small head radicchio
1/2 tart green apple
1/4 cup pine nuts
3 slices bacon
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon white-wine vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
1 ounce mild blue cheese
1. Slice: Trim bottoms off endive. Cut endive crosswise into thirds. Separate leaves, discard cores, wash, spin dry. Tumble into a pretty, shallow bowl. Use a big knife to shred radicchio. Thinly slice apple (leave skin on). Toss both with endive.
2. Toast: In a small dry skillet set over medium heat, toast pine nuts, shaking pan occasionally, until brown and fragrant, 5 minutes. Set aside.
3. Crisp: Cut bacon into 1-inch long strips. In a small skillet set over medium heat, crisp bacon until crunchy, 8 minutes. Lift out bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside.
4. Sizzle. Keep skillet and rendered fat (there should be about 2 tablespoons) over medium heat. Add mustard seeds and cook until they begin to pop, 1 minute. Turn down heat to low. Cautiously stir in balsamic and white-wine vinegars, then olive oil. Season with pepper. Pour hot dressing over salad. Let rest a few minutes.
5. Decorate: Crumble on blue cheese. Scatter with toasted pine nuts and reserved bacon. Enjoy.
Provenance: I re-created this recipe from happy memory. The green apple addition was suggested by an opinionated German houseguest. Apple, bacon and cheese do make good company.
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LeahREskin@aol.com
