This week, your Gullet team is reporting on the resurgence of Caesar salads. We’re throwing the buzzy and much beloved Little Gem out the window for a moment to behold some of the surprising ways this classic appetizer is making an inspired and fashionable comeback.
A Caesar Pleaser
by Kitty
I made dinner reservations in Charleston, SC, based on a review I read from Condé Nast Traveler. Frannie & The Fox is a trendy hotel restaurant that offers wood-fired pizzas and items that looked like they could satisfy a group. Our party was seated in a verdant green, upholstered velvet booth in a dimly lit corner. This, paired with me forgetting my glasses, helped to camouflage the fact that the entire city was teeming with bachelorette parties. Sashay!
We ordered a few pies, but to my dismay, nobody was interested in any of the shareable small plates. Under the guise of health, I ordered myself a Caesar salad. But it wasn’t the fiber I was after—it was color, variety, and a little goddamn vacation flair. The menu description listed simply: black pepper vinaigrette, lemon croutons, pecorino. I envisioned a tasty, familiar standby. When it arrived tableside, I was surprised to see a heaping bowl of leafy greens—peppery arugula, wild, curly frisée, and chopped romaine—topped with loads of lemony, toasted breadcrumbs and the tiniest sprinkle of cheese. I had my doubts but dug in anyway. It’s not that I’m a stickler for tradition; it’s just that not everything needs a rebrand.
I scooped some salad onto a side plate and then offered the dish to the rest of the table. Nobody bit. I thought the hill I’d die on was for creamy Caesar dressing, but this salad was so delightfully refreshing I began to reconsider. The tang of citrus and vinegar worked in perfect harmony with a dash of silky olive oil. I made my way through the rest of the bowl, nibbling like a rabbit, protecting my feed from predators in rhinestone cowboy boots and sequined minis. When I came up for air, I wondered what classic they’d rethink next. If Caesar salad was getting this kind of treatment, can you imagine the glow-up they’d give to meatloaf?
Name drops: Frannie & The Fox
A Caesar Salad to Rule Them All
by Greg
A couple of weeks ago, I made reservations at one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants, Julia’s Local. My parents were coming, and I wanted them to experience the magic of their menu and the “Private Dining Room (PDR).” The PDR is a sequestered space off the kitchen with one table that gives diners a full view of the goings-on of the back of house. Chef Henning is on full display as he sears trout and other Scandinavian-American specialties. One of the things that endears me to Julia’s is that there are some rules. Reservations are only made by phone. To sit in the PDR you *must* have four people. Please don’t speak to the chef during your dinner. Did I mention he’s seven feet tall?
Julia’s menu changes seasonally based on what they grow in their garden across the street. I quickly scanned for new dishes and saw that a Caesar salad had been added. “Yes, please!” After a scintillating parade of drinks arrived, the Caesar made its grand entrance. If a salad were walking an Oscar de la Renta show at Fashion Week, this is what it would have looked like. This ravishing display of romaine was served in a gorgeous hand-potted amorphous dish. The fronds of the lettuce were arranged vertically, and their take on croutons (long slices of double-baked sourdough) shot out of the vessel like stunning feathers in a Philip Treacy design.
This sculptural interpretation of a salad sat in the center of the table, our party frozen and marveling at its beauty. When we were brave enough to break in, the dressing stunned. It was creamy but not heavy, zesty but not punchy, and sweet but not unpleasant. I was also unsettled as the undeniable hit of umami indicated anchovies were a heavily featured player, but the fishy aftertaste I sometimes find unpleasant was nowhere to be found. A real coup. The whole dish was a pure sensation, and along with the buttery snap of the razor-thin croutons, it made me rethink what a simple salad could be.
Julia herself came by to check in on things and I was so gobsmacked by the greens I stupidly asked, “What is this dressing?”“It’s Caesar, honey.” When I commented on the salad bowl, Julia proudly described how artist and ceramicist Rita Seiko had made it by slip-casting a cabbage.
The rest of the meal was fabulous, as always, and Chef Henning did leave the kitchen for a moment to say hello. After all, if the chef speaks to you, it’s allowed. Staring up at Henning from what felt like a mile below, I felt the urge to look him in the eye and shake his hand for his artful, leafy creation. Instead I suddenly became shy in his presence and uttered a barely audible, “It was so good.”
Here on the page, a loud declaration to all future Caesar salads: Good luck, babe!
Name drops: Julia’s Local
A special thank you to this week’s illustrator, Nadia Kossman1. See more of their work here.
Nadia Kossman (they/them) is an illustrator from Queens, New York. Their practice focuses on combining their painting and printmaking experience to create zines, children’s books, and risograph prints. In their spare time, they enjoy going biking and trying new foods.