lunch at Caesar's restaurant
I thought a few of of you would love to read this story......
One of my early remembrances of restaurant life was going to Tijuana in 1925 or 1926 with my parents, who were wildly excited that they should finally
lunch at Caesar's restaurant. Tijuana, just south of the Mexican border from San Diego, was flourishing then, in the prohibition era. People came down
from the Los Angeles area in droves to eat in the restaurants; they drank forbidden beer and c-cktails as they toured the bars of the town; they
strolled in the flowered patio of Agua Caliente listening to the marimba band, and they gambled wickedly at the casino. Word spread about Tijuana and
the good life, and about Caesar Cardini's restaurant, and about Caesar's salad.
My parents, of course, ordered the salad. 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 2 eggs over that romaine and
roll them in, the greens going all creamy as the eggs flowed over them. Two eggs in a salad? Two one-minute coddled eggs? And garlic-flavored
croutons, and grated Parmesan cheese? It was a sensation from coast to coast, and there were even rumblings of its success in Europe.
furosemide
How could a mere salad cause such emotion? But, one remembers, that was way back in 1924, when Caesar Cardini invented it, and it was only in the
early twenties that refrigerated transcontinental transportation came into being. Before then, when produce was out of season in the rest of the
country, there was no greenery to be had. Before then, too, salads were considered rather exotic, definitely foreign, probably Bolshevist, and,
anyway, food only for sissies.
Almost 50 years later, when we decided upon Caesar Salad as one of the events for our program "Kids Want to Cook," I had, as usual, studied all the
sources and found, as usual, there was no agreement among any of them. I evolved what most appealed to me but it lacked a certain authenticity, and it
had no drama. Then my producer, Ruthie, suggested we try to locate someone from that era who knew Caesar and really knew that salad. Was there anyone?
Indeed there was, Ruthie found. Rosa Cardini, his daughter, was living in the Los Angeles area, and was the head of a successful spice and salad
dressing business. I had a long Boston-to-Los-Angeles telephone conversation with her, taking copious notes. She was born five years after her father
created his masterpiece, she said, but she knew every detail because it had been so much discussed and remembered.
antabuse
As we went over each move, the salad began to take on life for me. At first, she said, Caesar used only the tender inside leaves, the hearts, of
romain, and he served them whole, arranging each portion on a large chilled dinner plate, leaf by leaf; you picked up a leaf by its stem end, and you
ate it in your fingers, leaf by leaf. What a great idea! What fun for television. But, she went on, since most Americans do not luck plucking up
sauced items with their fingers–witness the reaction to lobster à l'américaine served in the shell–he later changed to bite-sized pieces. Was there
anything special in the way he manipulated the salad? Yes, he had a uniquely Caesar way of tossing the salad. In fact, he didn't toss it, he scooped
under the leaves to make them turn like a large wave breaking toward him, to prevent those tender shoots of green from bruising. Again, drama, and a
new twist for our show. How about anchovies, mustard, herbs, and so forth? No! No anchovies! Caesar never used anything but the best oil, fresh
lemons, salt and pepper, a little Worcestershire–that's where those anchovies crept into so many of the recipes I had seen: Worcestershire does have a
speck of anchovy. Caesar also insisted on the best and freshest Parmesan, and homemade croutons basted with oil in which fresh garlic had been
steeped.
baclofen
That is the way we did the salad on our television program, and I have always been delighted with it. It is a very simple salad, really, and its
beauty rests entirely in the excellence of its ingredients–the best and freshest of everything, from romaine, to oil, eggs, lemons, croutons, garlic
and cheese.
Julia Child
Old people are like the old cars, made of some tough stuff. May show a little rust, but good as gold on the inside.
|
![[*]](images/xmbforum/default_icon.gif){kind=icon}
