You could say the Caesar salad—sorry, Caesar’s salad (yes, it should have an apostrophe)—conquered American menus. But the centennial of this iconic dish revealed that what we’re served usually is a pale imitation of the real deal. It’s a prime example of food trends watering down the things we love.
I can’t exactly recall how the conversation started with a couple of neighbors, but finding a true Caesar salad prepared tableside became a holy grail for us.
I think it began with the mention of a local restaurant that serves Caesar salad—sorry, it should be Caesar’s salad with an apostrophe because it’s the brainchild of a real person.
“It’s a great salad. I order it every time,” I agreed. “But it’s not a real Ceasar’s salad.”
CASE STUDY: Should Your Brand Chase the Birria Trend? Here’s How One Client Decided →
The original Caesar’s salad is elegantly simple with an umami-packed dressing, crisp whole romaine lettuce leaves, and a single garlicky baguette-slice crouton.
What Is Caesar’s Salad, Really?
The original Caesar’s salad was a Prohibition-era tableside dish improvised in Tijuana in 1924 by Italian-born restaurateur Cesare Cardini to entertain diners who’d driven south of the border for dinner and a drink.
(Fun fact: Nachos have a similar history. In the 1940s, Ignacio “Nacho” Anaya, maître d’ at the Victory Club in Piedras Negra, just over the border from Texas, improvised them as a snack for hungry patrons.)
In Tijuana today, it’s much the same at Caesar’s Restaurante & Bar, with a server making it from scratch in a giant wooden bowl on a cart that’s rolled from table to table.
First, they emulsify the luxurious dressing with a healthy punch of umami from anchovies and Worcestershire sauce, plus a coddled egg yolk for richness, garlic, lemon juice, Parmesan, and plenty of olive oil. The dressing has body, sure, but it’s never heavy or goopy or even particularly creamy.
Then crisp, tender inner Romaine lettuce leaves (whole, not torn) are gently tossed with the dressing and transferred to a plate, where the salad is showered with more Parm and crowned with a one garlicky baguette-slice crouton.
The last time I’d had real Caesar’s salad, I told my neighbors, was decades ago at the Franco-Mexican restaurant El Rey Sol in Ensenada, Baja California.
“I’m not even sure where you’d find one now, at least here.”
We started searching.
Esquites (Corn) with Lime Caesar Dressing →
Two Trends In One
It’s easy to see why tableside Caesar’s salad became so popular. The combination of showmanship and cool, crisp lettuce, umami-rich dressing, and crunchy croutons is seductive.
It’s also easy to see how fell it by the wayside.
Dining trends come and go, of course. Tableside service, including dishes like crêpes Suzette (man, those need a comeback, too), were once a hallmark of fine dining. Then it started to feel old-fashioned, the kind of thing your parents or grandparents would like.
Moreover, prepping dishes at the table requires skilled servers who can execute these dishes with confidence and flair. It’s a skill in short supply these days.
When my friends and I began our hunt for true tableside Caesar’s salad somewhere in the greater Los Angeles area, I didn’t realize it was turning 100, and Caesar’s salad would be turning up everywhere.
Imagine my delight when I spotted an Instagram post for a salad birthday celebration at L.A.’s landmark Mexican restaurant Casa Vega. Chef Javier Plascencia, owner of Caesar’s Restaurante & Bar, would be on hand with his team of ace waiters clad in white shirts, black ties and vests, and long white aprons slinging the classic version.
We were set! And it was everything I’d talked up to my friends: culinary performance art yielding a spectacular dish.
The eight-piece mariachi band was a bonus.
Evolution of a Food Trend
While tableside Caesar’s salad may have gone the way of shag carpet (though Casa Vega is bringing it back), its flavor profile endured as a delicious vehicle for all manner of variations (chicken Casear, anyone?).
Cheater Chicken Caesar Salad → (Yes, I’m guilty, too.)
But Caesar’s salad, as it’s often served today, has strayed a long, long way from its origins. The dressing often is overly heavy and creamy, the lettuce overdressed.
Too often, restaurants get lazy with it.
The worst, absolute worst, is the “Little Gem Caesar Salad” served at a chi-chi pizza place in my neighborhood. The lettuce isn’t Little Gems; it’s obviously torn romaine from a bag. The dressing is creamy and bland, and the thing is garnished with whole anchovies, which makes me strongly suspect they’re using bottled dressing and draping the salad in whole fish to make it seem made from scratch.
I’m pretty sure the owners have never, ever had a real Caesar’s salad.
This whole thing reminds me of when I edited a piece for Parade Magazine written by the legendary late, great, and deeply opinionated food critic Mimi Sheraton.
As we chatted to nail down the global food trends she’d feature in the story, she noted that an ingredient or dish becoming trendy was a sure step to watering it down until it was a mere shadow of its original self.
“Just look at jalapeño chiles now,” Sheraton noted. “They’re so mild! People like the idea of them, but they don’t really want the heat.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but she was right, of course. Even then, I was substituting serrano chiles when I wanted actual heat. And lately, there’s been a rash of articles about how tame jalapeños have become.
It’s only a matter of time until they get nearly as big and mild as an Anaheim chile. Heck you can buy seeds for the Coolapeño Heatless Jalapeño that’s touted to get sweeter as it ripens.
Caesar’s Salad In 2025 and Beyond: Still Trending
The salad’s 100th birthday has refocused more attention on what the dish really is. We’ve also seen the Caesar’s salad flavor profile on its way to becoming the next cacio e pepe or ranch dressing in terms of ubiquity.
Food & Wine magazine has jumped on board with recipes for Caesar Potato Salad and an insanely delicious looking Caesar Salad Pasta (basically the flavors of the dressing spun into a zingy pasta sauce; it’s on my personal to-make list).
Caesar chicken wrap sandwiches are on menus everywhere, but you’ll also find Caesar salad pizza (basically, the salad atop a pizza, and it’s good), as well as the dressing drizzled on pizza, much as you would ranch dressing.
When a Food Trend Makes Sense for Your Brand (and When It Doesn’t) →
On the brand side, Kroger named Caesar’s salad flavors one of their top five trends for 2025. You’ll see some variation on Caesar’s salad kits in just about every supermarket these days. It’s also turned up as a dip at Trader Joe’s. And the olive oil company Graza recently rolled out a line of EVOO-fried potato chips, including Zesty Caesar.
Some of these ideas work better than others. Brands that chase a flavor profile without understanding why it works end up with content that looks timely but feels hollow. Brands that nail it, win.
The original Caesar’s salad succeeded because every element – the coddled egg, the anchovy, the whole romaine leaf – did something. When recipes are built that way, with purpose behind each ingredient choice, the result earns a permanent place in a customer’s rotation. That’s the difference between a trend that drives one purchase and a product that earns a place in a customer’s pantry.
Beyond the Dish: When Flour Tortillas Stand In for Pancakes →
Real Deal Ceasar’s Salad Dressing
Equipment
- 1 saucepan
- 1 large bowl
- 1 wooden spoon
Ingredients
- 2 large eggs
- ¾ teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
- 6 anchovy filets
- 1 lemon juiced
- 1 clove garlic crushed
- ¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
- freshly ground black pepper to taste
Instructions
- To coddle the eggs, bring a small pot of water to a boil. Carefully lower the eggs into the water, and cook 1 minute. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the eggs to a bowl of ice water. When the eggs are cool, separate them, setting aside the yolks for the dressing. (Use the whites for baking, an egg-white omelet, a Pisco Sour cocktail, etc.)
- In a large bowl (ideally wooden, like they do at Caesar’s Restaurante & Bar!), combine the mustard, Worcestershire sauce, anchovies, lemon juice, garlic, and cheese and pepper. Beat with a wooden spoon until a paste forms. Then beat in the coddled egg yolks. Add the oil in a thin stream, beating constantly until it’s incorporated.
- Use immediately or refrigerate up to 3 days. (Makes about 1 cup.)