The Foodies: Hail, Caesar!
By Vicki G. Marshall and Margaret M. Toohey
It seems obvious that the Caesar salad must have been named for Julius Caesar. Or maybe the emperor even invented it. After all, the ancient Romans knew how to eat, and this emperor was the most famous of them all. It’s hard to argue with logic such as that. But we must. The Foodies have come to toss the Caesar and bury the myth. Caesar salad has no connection whatsoever to Julius or, for that matter, any of the Caesars who ruled the Roman Empire. The name instead honors Caesar (also known as Cesar) Cardini, a famed restaurateur, and hotelkeeper.
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Illustration by Jean-Pierre Thimot.
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In the roaring twenties, Caesar Cardini (1896-1956) ran a small hotel and restaurant in Tijuana, catering to the Hollywood crowd and San Diego socialites. The swells would drive to Mexico to party in those days of Prohibition, and often they wound up at Caesar’s hotel for a meal before returning home. The story is told that on the Fourth of July, 1924, people arrived in droves, crowding the restaurant and sending the kitchen into a panic. There weren’t enough fresh vegetables to go around, and Americans weren’t wild about salad, but Caesar thought he could make a salad they’d really go for, and he would make it in public: tableside, using ingredients basic to every Italian kitchen. He created a salad that looked so good that every table of diners ordered one. Over the years, driving to Tijuana for a Caesar salad became quite the thing to do. Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, and W.C. Fields came, as gossip columnists faithfully reported. The Society of Epicures in Paris reportedly called the Caesar salad “the greatest recipe to originate from the Americas in fifty years.”
Perhaps you remember the first time you had one in a restaurant. The waiter wheeled the cart covered in a perfectly starched white tablecloth right up to your table, a hush fell over the room, and the drama of mixing the salad began. Vicki’s first time was in an Italian restaurant on Central Park South in New York City, and she too assumed that the salad was named for Julius Caesar. Keenan Toohey, Margy’s daughter and a Latin scholar, was crushed when she recently learned that the Caesar had no ancient Roman significance.
Julia Child had her first under the eye of Cardini himself in Tijuana. Child was a youngster in the mid 1920s when her parents drove down from California to Mexico to see what all the fuss was about, and in her book, From Julia Child’s Kitchen, (Random House, 1977) she writes about the tableside performance:
Caesar himself rolled the big cart up to the table, tossed the romaine in a great wooden bowl, and I wish I could say I remember his every move, but I don’t. The only thing I see again clearly is the eggs. I can see him break two eggs over the romaine and roll them in, the greens going all creamy as the eggs flowed over them.
In 1948, Cardini moved to Los Angeles to be closer to his patrons, and when people began bringing bottles for him to fill with his salad dressing, a new cottage industry was born, and Cardini began packaging the mixture for consumers all over the world. Today, you can purchase Cardini’s original Caesar dressing at local supermarkets, and simply by following the instructions on the bottle—adding fresh lemon juice, fresh grated parmesan cheese, and croutons—you can make a very good Caesar at home with little or no effort.
The wondrous salad, with or without the tableside showmanship by maitre d’s and waiters, has been a constant of American restaurant menus for over half a century. With the bottom of a wooden spoon, the salad maker crushes garlic and anchovy, adds Worcestershire sauce, Dijon mustard, olive oil and coddled eggs, and whips it all together. Next, the romaine is added, followed by a squeeze of fresh lemon. The salad is tossed with croutons and Parmesan cheese before being finished off with freshly ground black pepper. There apparently are those who eschew a Caesar over salmonella concerns, thinking that the use of raw or undercooked eggs may be unhealthy. Here in Western New York, many restaurants continue to prepare the salad the authentic way, but some leave out the egg, or use substitutes. For years, debate raged over the inclusion of anchovies in what some call a “classic” Caesar. Interestingly, anchovies were not in the original salad. Cardini attributed the confusion to the faint anchovy flavor in his salad that came from the Worcestershire sauce. (Look on the bottle and you’ll see anchovies in the ingredients list.)
To the Foodies, the Caesar is king of salads. It was probably the first main course salad, and many of today’s chefs have turned it into a true main course, often with the addition of grilled chicken, shrimp, or salmon. The Caesar has not only outlasted other “classics” from the period but has grown in popularity. Megan Toohey, upon learning that the Foodies were writing about Caesar salads, immediately emailed:
“I consider myself a bit of a connoisseur, as I usually order a Caesar anywhere I’m eating and frequently ask for a Caesar salad even when one is not found on a menu. I’m not a die-hard, though, since I usually pass on the anchovies. Often restaurants will call a salad a Caesar when it appears to be nothing more than romaine lettuce, croutons, Parmesan, and an Italian-type dressing. That is not a Caesar. In a good Caesar dressing, the eggs should be somewhat frothy, much like the best and most authentic Caesar salad in Buffalo at Lombardo’s Ristorante, on Hertel Avenue. The waiters there have become experts and should win an award for their deft handling of salad fork and spoon. Mother’s Restaurant on Virginia Place offers a yummy hearts of romaine salad with nice sheets of fresh shaved Parmesan, though owner Mark Supples bristles at the idea of adding chicken or other enhancements to this salad. The Caesar salad at Grille 33 at the Park Lane comes with a Parmesan ‘cracker’—grated Parmesan baked on a cookie sheet until it’s melted golden brown and then hardens into a cracker-like consistency: delicious, and very easy to do at home. The Caesar at Brodo is also excellent: nice and creamy, with freshly grated Parmesan cheese and good croutons. While I enjoy a Caesar as a meal topped with chicken or shrimp, some purists think this is a grotesque distortion of a classic (see Mark Supples above). Yet I’ll eat anything on top of a Caesar. I recently had a fantastic Caesar salad topped with a crab cake at a great restaurant in Lewes, Delaware.”
Margy and Vicki recently enjoyed Caesars at three restaurants, all of which have recently been renamed and/or redone. First we stopped at Water Street Landing, formerly the Riverside Inn, in Lewiston. We thoroughly enjoyed the totally revamped restaurant and menu. The Caesar was robust, creamy, and not too flavored with anchovies; very satisfying. The dressing was definitely made in-house, and the croutons were of the very crunchy variety.
Our next stop was at the newly reopened and beautifully refurbished Clarkson House, also in Lewiston. With a changed menu including many favorites carried over from the Clarkson’s days, Chef Dave will no doubt restore the luster to that famed establishment. The Caesar at the Clarkson House was excellent, creamy, and cheesy. The salad could have used a tad more dressing, but the croutons were fabulous, tender and crunchy without that “biscottiesque” hardness, definitely house-made. The last stop on our Caesar holiday was at Mark Hutchinson’s new restaurant, the recently opened Tempo on Delaware Avenue, formerly Biac’s and—briefly—the Belvedere. We were intrigued by reports of Tempo’s Caesar and its white anchovies. This was a truly great Caesar. Cardini himself would have been delighted with this twenty-first century version of his simple recipe. The white anchovies were superb; not too fishy, “hairy,” or salty. The dressing was a perfect thickness, made with coddled eggs (the waitress checked with the chef), and topped with a Parmesan cheese crisp. The anchovies were presented, whole, on top of the salad, not mashed or mixed into the dressing. As a topping they added a satisfying and mildly tangy taste to the entire dish. To follow the salad, Margy had the appetizer portion of penne Pomodore and Vicki had the appetizer portion of the rigatoni Bolognese. Both were perfect compliments.
Whether you make it from scratch at home or enjoy one at your favorite restaurant, a well-made Caesar salad is a dining pleasure. It may not be named for an emperor, but it is still a regal dish.
Vicki G. Marshall (goya@adelphia.net) is a graphic designer. Margaret M. Toohey (mtoohey@lewistoninsurance.com) is CEO owner of The Lewiston Insurance Agency.
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