|Our slumbering cat on the banquette|
All this time, we didn't really know what form this dining sofa would take, or whether such a thing specifically existed. We'd certainly seen sofas pulled up to dining tables, imparting an air of luxury and cosiness to the scene, but we wondered about getting the proportions and firmness just right for the quotidian task of dining. After all, this was to be our daily perch for all our meals, and not mere set dressing.
When we began searching in earnest for the dining sofa of our dreams, we discovered that our terms weren't quite right. What we actually wanted, apparently, was not a sofa, but a banquette. Banquette to me had always conjured an image of something built-in and quite often badly built--like something cobbled together out of plywood in a new chef start-up restaurant. You know the kind of thing: the back and seat meet at right angles, the seat is far too short for comfort and upholstered with meager cushions that do nothing to save your spine from the jolt when you sit, and the base, also constructed at right angles, leaves no room for your heels, so you wind up kicking it every time you move. Of course we'd also sunk our tired bodies into beautifully upholstered, plush restaurant booths, with properly sprung seats and everything at the ergonomically correct angle. Could both extremes be called banquettes? We'd need to define our version.
|The Bistro Banquette by Mariette Himes Gomez for Hickory chair|
And now, the wait is over:
|Here it is in situ with a lambskin over the seat (luxurious cat claw protection)|
|Another view without lambskin and refinished Duncan Phyfe table|
|Hickory Chair Bistro banquette, Duncan Phyfe table, and IKEA outdoor chairs|