On July 4th, 75 years ago, Caesar Cardini, an Italian immigrant who owned restaurants in Tijuana, Mexico, invented the salad which has hereafter borne his name: Caesar Salad. "It was popular with movie stars and became the darling of Hollywood," writes Molly O'Neill in her New York Cook- book. "It also became the showpiece of Manhattan dining rooms, where New York waiters perfected the showmanship of tableside Caesaring." One of these waiters, Nicola Paone, wrote a song about the whole theatrical shebang of making a Caesar salad properly:
"Put the salt and put the pepper and the vinegar just thus,
Put the oil and put the garlic, garlic is salubrious.
Lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce, Put the egg of yolk right in,
Use the mustard, leave the rest out, and you're ready to begin."
Salubrious garlic! Wonderful. The whole song runs to 16 verses, and concludes with the fervent hope that, because the guy makes such a good Caesar, "my love will love me more tonight". I think if you can make a good Caesar, that's pretty much a dead cert. This is sexy food.
Caesar salad hasn't faltered in the 75 years it has been around. For many Irish restaurants, their version of the salad is a signature dish: the Elephant & Castle in Temple Bar has offered a staple Caesar from the day it opened its doors, and John Cooke in Cooke's Cafe makes a terrific Caesar, one of the very best. Paul Rankin used to make a killer Caesar dressing, which he served with cos leaves and black olives. I ate one recently in Derry Clarke's L'Ecrivain restaurant, which was perfection itself.
Clarke's version was purist: fine crisp cos lettuce-leaves dressed with a richly unctuous dressing, that magical hit of flavour with its saline note from anchovy and Worcestershire sauce, the sharpness of lemon juice and mustard, the sweetness of Parmesan, the crisp crunch of crouton.
Legend has it that Caesar Cardini didn't include anchovies in his original version, content to rely on the anchovy component of the Worcestershire sauce. The anchovy fillets were added in later, and one of the other small revisions has been the tendency of people to coddle the egg for a minute, rather than using a raw egg yolk - but that has been a modern affectation, designed largely to get around fear of raw eggs.
In recent times, the Caesar salad has been subjected to what I reckon is a series of undeserved indignities. People have begun to offer it with chicken, even prawns. Sometimes the chicken is even brushed with tandoori spices before it is added to the salad. Aaagh!
This is not merely unfair to the reputation of one of the great 20th-century dishes - it is totally unnecessary. "Why do they fling all that stuff in when the salad is perfect by itself?" a friend remarked recently, and he hit the nail on the head: the Caesar salad, as one of that group of dishes known as "composed salads," is perfectly complete all by itself.
But, away from such messing around, it is fun to play about with the basic Caesar dressing, revisiting and revitalising it with new ideas. Here are two favourite variations. "Jenny's Caesar Salad" comes from Stephanie Alexander's book, The Cook's Companion, while the terrific Roquefort dressing with walnuts - the sweet walnuts a smart substitution for the original croutons - is from the inexhaustibly brilliant Dean & DeLucca Cookbook.
Jenny's Caesar Salad
3 eggs,
1 rasher streaky bacon sliced or cubed olive oil,
2-3 slices sourdough bread (crusts removed),
2 cos lettuce hearts washed and well-dried,
6 anchovies cut into strips,
2 tablespoons freshly grated parmesan cheese,
2 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley.
Dressing:
1 teaspoon sea salt,
three-quarter teaspoon freshly ground black pepper,
1 clove garlic crushed to a fine paste,
quarter-teaspoon mustard powder,
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard,
1 teaspoon lemon juice,
2 tablespoons tarragon or red-wine vinegar,
half-cup extra-virgin olive oil,
1 egg
Mix all the dressing ingredients together in a screw-top jar. Shake well and set aside. Bring a saucepan of water to the boil and boil eggs for four minutes exactly. In a frying pan, fry bacon in a little oil. Remove from the pan. Cut bread into one-centimetre cubes and fry in bacon fat, tossing to crisp. Remove from pan and drain on kitchen paper. Peel eggs and cut into large chunks or quarters. Arrange lettuce leaves on a platter. Drizzle with dressing. Turn leaves in dressing and scatter on egg, anchovies, bacon, croutons, cheese and parsley. Eat at once.
Caesar Salad with Roquefort Dressing and Crispy Walnuts
4 flat anchovy fillets, or, to taste, rinsed and drained
4 garlic cloves, peeled,
10ml (2 teaspoons) sherry vinegar,
10ml (2 teaspoons) fresh lemon juice,
5ml (1 teaspoon) Worcestershire sauce,
3ml (1/2 teaspoon) dry mustard,
125ml (4 fl oz) extra-virgin olive oil,
4 heads romaine or cos lettuce, the pale green inner leaves washed, spun dry, and torn into bite-size pieces,
125g (4oz) Roquefort cheese, crumbled crispy walnuts
Make the dressing: Mince and mash the anchovies with the garlic to form a paste. Whisk together the anchovy paste, vinegar, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce and the mustard in a small bowl. Add the olive oil in a stream, whisking, and whisk the dressing until it is emulsified. In a large bowl, toss the lettuce with the dressing. Add the Roquefort cheese, and sprinkle the salad with the crispy walnuts.
Crispy Walnuts:
225g (8oz) walnut halves, 85g (3oz) icing sugar, vegetable oil for frying, 5g (1/2 teaspoon) salt, 2g (1/8 teaspoon) cayenne pepper
In a saucepan, simmer the walnut halves in water to cover for 5 minutes, or until they are slightly softened. Drain the walnuts and transfer to paper towels to dry completely. In a bowl, stir together the walnuts and icing sugar. In a heavy pot, heat 7.5 centimetres (three inches) of vegetable oil to 180 (350s0]F). Fry the walnuts in batches for one to two minutes, or until they are brown and crisp. Transfer the walnuts as they are fried with a slotted spoon to a baking sheet and season with salt and cayenne pepper. Cool.