Classic Caesar Salad with Homemade Dressing

There is a small Italian restaurant near my house that makes their Caesar salad tableside, on a wooden cart, in a giant wooden bowl. The waiter rubs the bowl with a cut garlic clove, mashes anchovies into a paste with the back of a spoon, whisks in egg yolks and lemon juice, drizzles in olive oil while whisking, grates a small mountain of parmesan, tosses the romaine by hand, and finishes everything with cracked pepper and house-made croutons. I have watched it a hundred times and never gotten tired of the show. It is theater and dinner combined, and the salad itself is exactly what you hope a Caesar will be: sharp, creamy, herbaceous, and somehow both bright and rich at the same time.

I cannot do the tableside show at home, but I have spent years trying to reverse-engineer that exact salad. The breakthroughs were small but important. First: anchovies are not optional. If you are scared of them, I promise they melt into the dressing and just taste like deep, savory umami — not fish. Second: a raw egg yolk is what gives the dressing its glossy, almost mayonnaise-like body. If raw eggs make you nervous, use a pasteurized egg or a quality store-bought mayo as the base. Third: use freshly grated parmesan from a real wedge, not the pre-grated stuff in the green can. The difference is enormous.

The croutons are the other piece of the puzzle. Store-bought croutons are an insult to this salad. The best croutons are made from day-old country bread, torn (not cut) into rough chunks, tossed with olive oil, garlic, salt, and a little melted butter, and baked until they are deeply golden on the outside but still slightly chewy in the middle. The torn edges catch the oil and crisp up unevenly, which means every single crouton has both crunchy and tender bits. I always make a double batch because half of them get eaten straight off the sheet pan before I can finish dressing the salad.

The lettuce matters too. Romaine hearts are the gold standard — sweet, crisp, and sturdy enough to stand up to the dressing without wilting. Wash and dry them thoroughly. A salad spinner is your friend here; wet lettuce dilutes the dressing and makes everything taste flat. Tear the leaves into bite-sized pieces rather than chopping them, because the rough edges hold dressing better.

When everything comes together — crisp romaine, glossy creamy dressing, salty parmesan shavings, and crackly buttery croutons — you have a salad that genuinely tastes better than what you would get at most restaurants. It works as a main course with a piece of grilled chicken on top, or as a side with a steak, or just on its own with a glass of wine. It is my forever salad.