One of the teenagers asked for Caesar salad; when I made it, the other - who never touches iceberg lettuce or any of the other lettuces - decided he liked Cos.
One of my past obsessions on this weblog was the search for the great Caesar of Melbourne. Incorrect spelling of the name meant immediate disqualification; harsh but necessary. It is probably evolutionary that the human mind recalls bad faster than good; I don’t remember the really good ones, but I can still taste the greasy, stale croutons, the brown-edged limp lettuce and the oleaginous bacon of the worst. It was one of those food halls in Bourke Street where they pile up the salads like pyramids.
Detail is everything. Fresh cold lettuce. If not using anchovies, prosciutto - or guanciale or whatever - with the fat rendered out so that it is crisp and its saltiness is not obscured by oiliness. Freshly toasted croutons flecked with lemon juice. A cleanly poached egg added at the last second followed by a shower of flaked parmesan cheese. And served in a glass bowl so you can see the freshness of the understorey as well as what’s sitting on top.
Indeed, a good Caesar salad is a wonderful thing. Years ago, Grey Poupon Dijon Mustard had a recipe for Caesar dressing on the label which was very good. I have since searched but cannot find it. I'm guessing that is because it contains raw egg (I've never understood the point of coddling the egg; the end result is mayonnaise flavored with garlic and mustard anyway). I prefer anchovy paste to actual anchovies in my dressing.
ReplyDeleteAnchovies will be the next frontier. I personally prefer them over bacon.
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