
When it comes to kitchen routines I’m all for easy (once in a while). There are some perfectly acceptable shortcuts that I’m happy to take – as long as the compromises in quality are kept to a minimum. When I make a tri-tip roast in the oven I don’t always sear the outside first. That’s because (contrary to popular wisdom) searing doesn’t lock in the juices. It does however add a subtle layer of depth and complexity that I find necessary in braised meats. Less so with roasted meats. For me a perfectly acceptable brown crust naturally occurs in roasting. However, when it comes to the swagger of an Old School Caesar Salad there are no shortcuts.
Well, no acceptable shortcuts.
Old School Caesar Salad
That’s because a Caesar Salad, at least a real, true Old School Caesar Salad is classically bold: rich, and tart, and pungent. The more punch the better. An Old School Caesar Salad gets that punch from plenty of dressing. Too many New School Caesar Salads are horribly under-dressed and make too many concessions to modern-day haters. The anchovy-haters, the raw-egg-haters and the homemade-dressing-haters. “Why make it yourself if Wishbone sells it in jar?”
Ugh, it’s no wonder I shun most Caesar Salads these days.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. If we shun the phrase “these days” and instead embrace the Caesar Salad of “those days” we can have an Old School Caesar Salad with a good old-fashioned punch in the taste buds. There are just a few old school rules to remember:
The Method: The first rule is to grind the ingredients yourself (with your own two hands). Food processors have a hallowed place in our kitchens. However, when it comes to Guacamole, Pesto and Old School Caesar Salad Dressing, machines make these condiments too mechanical and too perfect. In fact if you use a blender or a food processor with oil and egg yolk you’re likely to end up with Caesar-flavored mayonnaise. When it comes to Old School Caesar Salad Dressing you want it a little rustic and not too creamy. Elbow grease is just right.
The Bowl: An Old School Caesar Salad starts with a wooden bowl. A wooden bowl just as huge as you can find. It shouldn’t be too precious or too smooth or too perfect. It should be a work bowl.
The Cheese: Yeah. The cheese matters. It must be imported Italian Parmigiano Reggiano. If it comes in a green tube it won’t and can’t be an Old School Caesar Salad. In fact it won’t even be edible.
The Garlic: You want really fresh, really sticky, really stinky garlic. Jarred, pickled, pre-peeled or granulated varieties are categorically unacceptable.
The Lettuce: Choose as many whole leaves from the interior of the lettuce as you can. Bigger leaves can be torn into smaller pieces, but not too small. A Caesar Salad is a special event. Big leaves encourage diners to use a knife and fork. Speaking of leaves: baby field greens? arugula? mesclun mix? No. Leave those emaciated, limp little leaves out of the picture. Romaine. Romaine. Romaine.
The Croutons: You’ll notice that I didn’t include an actual recipe for the croutons in this salad. That’s not because croutons are optional. Croutons are the jewels in an Old School Caesar Salad – a delicious excuse to use just a little more dressing. However, I can never decide if I like roughly torn, lightly toasted, still chewy stovetop croutons, or the crunchier, hard-edged baked variety. So choose the croutons you like best. Just don’t choose store-bought.
The Anchovies: Anchovies are the essence of an Old School Caesar Salad. Many people claim to loathe them, refusing any dish with even a whiff. It’s easy for an overwhelmed cook to just leave them out. However, it’s the anchovies that provide the briny blast (and that whole umami thing that makes a Caesar sing).
The Raw Egg: I prefer to use raw egg yolks. I don’t buy pasteurized eggs because I steer clear of mechanized and/or processed foods whenever possible. However, I’m not pregnant or elderly and I do not have a compromised immune system. There are legitimate reasons to avoid raw eggs if you fall into these (and possibly a few other) categories. For everyone else raw eggs shouldn’t be an issue. You’re far more likely to get run over by a car than get sick from raw eggs. But if it makes you feel better to worry about it – go ahead and worry about it. That’s what the marketing folks want you to do.
GREG


This is the closet to my old recipe. A few things differ. I always rub a bit of raw garlic into the wooden bowl before adding the ingredients. As for the egg yolk, I would break the raw yolk, onto the lettuce , toss then the the oil mixture , toss and the the cheese and croutons. That is how I recall it being made at the restaurants in NYC, back in the 60s and never pre assembled. All prepared right at the table by your waiter. Served on a white plate.
I like tons of dressing on my, certainly too much. I like punch too — eye wincing, mouth watering tang. Great shots as always, Greg.
Beautiful photos, Greg, and the old school method presented herein is on point! Romaine always and never store-bought croutons.
I used to occasionally make the old school Caesar when I was catering, if it was a smaller party. Diners would always comment on how light it was compared to the Mayonaisse type Caesar dressing- not that I don’t like it, too. They both have their places. But I agree — a huge big Ugh! to bottled Caesar dressing. Why even bother?
Ooooh, I’m so with you… There’s nothing better than the “swagger of an Old School Caesar Salad”! I am now craving “a real, true Old School Caesar Salad” and all the “classically bold: rich, and tart, and pungent” flavor that comes with it. I love this recipe and all the perfect points outlined in your post. Cheers!
Mmm! Homemade croutons and proper Parmesan cheese are the top two factors for me. I’ve never understood the appeal of bottled salad dressing. Unfortunately, I developed an allergy/sensitivity to garlic a few years ago; a difficult thing, I can tell you! But food allergies change, and perhaps one day I’ll be over it.
I’m a huge fan of a good Caesar salad and this one fits all the criteria; I’m just imagining how wonderful it must have tasted! Great job here.
Sadly, I will never taste a true classic Caesar. There are only a few moments when my allergy to garlic makes me wish it would go away. This is one. I make a Caesar sans garlic, and love it. Maybe just before I die, I will add some garlic and see what I have been missing. Yay, for classics. Boo, for Wishbone.
Fantastic! Salads like this are hard to find these days. Thanks for the recipe, because that’s probably the only way I’m going to get one. I think the history of the Caesar salad is interesting, too … all caught up with your celebrity countrymen out in sunny California, a few generations past. Oh, and thank you for what you said about wanting lots of dressing. Hear, hear!
I only recently fell in love with the the classic Ceasar salad and eat it a lot, outside. This is super good and I know I can’t find a better one. Need to make it.
xx
Love a REAL Caesar salad. Which is what you’re giving us — super job. Agree about doing it all by hand — it really takes no time. I go back and forth between whole leaves or tearing my lettuce leaves. Decisions, decisions. 🙂 Although we often do use pasteurized eggs, that’s one of those things I’m constantly questioning — their quality doesn’t seem as good to me as even regular supermarket eggs (and nothing near the quality of locally produced). Good post — thanks.
You are like my friend Jack when it comes to making Caesar salad. He always brings everything including the bowl.
Greg, The Caesar has always been my favorite! Thanks for the great recipe! Jeff~
You had me at really stinky garlic!
OMG, like the waiter who wheels the cart to your table — this is the best!
This is the real McCoy! Caesar dressing from scratch.
I’ve never made it at home before. Now that I have your recipe
I can’t wait!