Chicory Salad

A three-line salad that assumes you know what chicory looks like and what dressing means. Both need a word in a modern kitchen.

• What "white chicory" isThis is witloof, sold in American markets as Belgian endive and in Britain as chicory: the pale, tight, torpedo-shaped head grown in the dark so it never greens. It is not curly endive or frisée, and not the blue-flowered chicory of coffee substitutes.
• Paring the green leavesAny leaf tip that has caught light turns green and more bitter, so the trimming is probably as much about flavor as looks. Trim the browned base as well, and cut out the solid core at the root end, generally the bitterest part of the head.
• Washing and dryingTight heads rarely need more than a rinse; separate the leaves or halve the head lengthwise first. A "wire salad shaker" is the wire-basket ancestor of the salad spinner, swung at arm's length. Drying matters here because dressing will not cling to wet leaves.
• The dressing'Dressing' here most likely points to a plain oil-and-vinegar French dressing, commonly around three parts oil to one of vinegar with salt and pepper. Four tablespoons is generous for two heads; start with two or three and add more, as chicory leaves are smooth and hold little.
• Dress at the last momentThe hinge of the dish is the phrase 'send to the table.' Vinegar and salt draw water out of chicory fairly quickly and the leaves slacken, so mix it as it leaves the kitchen rather than ahead.
• YieldTwo heads serve two as a side salad, or four as a small course alongside cheese.
• If you want it less bitterCold water and cold dressing tend to mute the bitterness; room-temperature chicory tastes sharper. A little sugar or a spoonful of cream in the dressing also works.