Caesar (the salad)

There are a few things that should be second nature to everyone. When the dog is sitting by the door, let him out… when the cops are chasing you, step on the gas… and, when making a Caesar Salad, don’t be shy. This salad isn’t about mediocrity, it’s about getting socked in the jaw. Lemon, Anchovy and Parmesan should be front and center.

In a blender: three egg yolks. Slowly drizzle in Canola oil (Olive oil always comes out tasting bitter to me) until you get a thick mayo consistency. Then add the juice from one Lemon, three or four cloves of Garlic, a couple splashes of Red Wine Vinegar, Salt & Pepper, a fist-full of grated Parmesan and half a tin of minced Anchovies (I use the ones packed in oil). Blend and taste. If you don’t taste the Lemon and Anchovy, keep adding till you do. If the dressing gets a little thick, add some water to thin it out.

In the world of croutons, there is a fine line between spongy and teeth shattering. I dice my bread on the smaller side so they cook more evenly. 350 degree oven for 10 minutes and then check them. This is not the time to retire to the backyard with a tumbler of single malt. Check them every few minutes until they reach uniform firmness. I usually hit them with a little truffle oil, because, let’s be honest, it makes everything better. If someone would have poured some on Attila the Hun, maybe we wouldn’t have had so many problems in the European city-states during the 4th century. Think about it.

Chopped Romaine is easier for me to get on a fork than full leaves, although the presentation isn’t as grand. Isn’t it funny that Romaine lettuce is used in a Caesar salad? I want to come up with a new version that uses Roman lettuce. A Roman Caesar.

One reply on “Caesar (the salad)”

Comments are closed.