Sort-Of Caesar Dressing
I've mentioned this dressing before--it's a staple at our house. Which is a good thing because my lettuces are just starting to come in--and when I combine what I'm growing with what we'll be getting from our CSA starting next week, I know we'll be having salads for the foreseeable (and unforeseeable) future.
I'm not going to say this dressing is easy. "Easy" is pouring a dressing out of a bottle.
I'm about to get cranky. "Easy" has become some sort of knee-jerk apology affixed to almost every recipe these days. I've even recently seen authentic curry recipes that dare to use the word easy--as if something with half a million spices and two hours on the stove could ever be considered easy. So I've made a pact with myself--here goes the career down the drain--to lose the words quick and easy. It's not that I don't think food should be, well, quick and easy. But it's that these words have become some sort of cloaking device in modern food writing for the writer's own insecurities about a profession in flux.
These days, most people work at break-neck speed. In this economy, with so many laid off, those still employed are doing jobs that used to require two or three people. Thus, things are still speeding up even in a recession. (I think it's one of the reasons some people can't see the economic problems around us--because the economy is shrinking while we're speeding up.)
Let's face it: these problems have been a long time coming, at least since the early '90s when the quick and easy clichés started growing exponentially in the food business. Everything's been running faster and faster. Everyone's more and more pressed. And so food writers--who are, well, counter-cultural in many ways--try to excuse what they do with palliative words, as if soothing jangled nerves were a way to convince people to make a crafted dish.
Here's the deal: this salad dressing is frickin' delicious. I stir it into wheat berry salads, I drip it on sautéed mushrooms, and I've even used it as a base for cole slaw (with a little extra mayonnaise for good measure). And some extra dressing stored in the fridge means a meal--at least a salad with some chopped walnuts and sliced peaches among the lettuce leaves--is never far off.
In other words, that salad's now quick and easy. Sigh.
Anyway, here's how to make Bruce's Sort-Of Caesar Dressing. First, put all this in a large bowl: 1 large egg yolk, 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard, 1 1/2 teaspoons anchovy paste (or 2 anchovy fillets pushed through the garlic press), 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce, 1 garlic clove pushed through the garlic press, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon sugar, and a few grinds of black pepper.
Next, whisk in about 3 tablespoons vinegar. Bruce always uses white balsamic, a slightly sweeter alternative to standard vinegars. White wine vinegar would probably work as well, but you might want to cut the amount down to 2 tablespoons until you can see if you like its increased acidity.
Then whisk in enough olive oil in a slow, steady stream until the mixture emulsifies and turns creamy. In the end, you'll use about 1/2 cup, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. (It all depends on the number of loose polyunsaturated oils floating around in your bottle of olive oil, more of them making it wetter as it were--but that's another story entirely.) Occasionally, stop the flow of oil and just whisk, testing the texture. You don't want mayo but you do want to get enough air into the dressing that it thickens up a bit.
Finally, add about 1/4 cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Romano or even Asiago for a stronger taste. Pour most of the dressing into a small bowl, cover, and refrigerate for up to 4 days, rewhisking to loosen it up before you use it again. Add lots of lettuce to the small amount left in the mixing bowl and toss well. Now that's a salad!
Caesar salad, dressing, salad
Reader Comments (5)
The next item in my RSS reader was...Quick and Easy Berry Trifle on Slashfood. So I see what you mean.
This post was fascinating to me because my mother's hand-me-down recipe for ceasar dressings went more or less exactly like this only with lemon juice for acid and dry mustard powder, admittedly, though, no sugar. Can I ask what a more 'real' ceasar would be composed of? As far as I was concerned, this was IT.
You nailed it dead on. Lemon juice, dry mustard, no sugar--those are the differences. And some classic Caesar's had no Worcestershire--others did.
Yum, I love a sharp Caesar dressing. And I'm soooo glad you have the anchovies in there. I know some people despise the little fish and leave them out of the dressing. But a Caesar dressing just isn't complete without 'em.
Carolyn: Nor is many a pasta sauce, with the anchovies melted into the fat right up front. In fact, I think of anchovies as the fish sauce of many Mediterranean dishes: a little bit of stinkiness that mellows into gorgeous undertones when heated.