For years now, we have been making a pretty good run at blatantly plagiarizing the "Grilled Caesar Salad" from Jonathan at Gratz Park. This is my wife's favorite restaurant in town or maybe anywhere. Although I think it can be a little stuffy (read "old") at times, there is no denying the food is consistently fantastic and the place is gorgeous. The one part of the salad I never before replicated is the crunchy black-eyed peas, which replace croutons as the texture providing topping. I am now pulling this off. First, I soak the black-eyed peas in water. Once drained and completely dry, I fry them until they are crispy and then season with salt and pepper. In addition to complementing this salad, they make an excellent snack, as they will keep well for at least a week in an air-tight container.
My Caesar dressing is the product of a lot of experimenting and reflects my fondness for salt, so you may need to adjust it to your taste. In a small food processor, I first combine 3 cloves of garlic, 2 anchovies, 1 Tbs of fresh lemon juice, 1/2 tsp of salt, 1/4 tsp of pepper (freshly ground), 1/2 tsp of Worcestershire Sauce and one egg yolk. I expect this sounds pretty icky to some (well..most), but please don't be afraid. The fish will completely dissolve and there isn't enough raw egg to hurt a reasonably healthy person. The egg is essential for the consistency of the dressing (thick) and the fish provides a level of "brininess" that can't be left out. You'll like it. This is real food. Once I puree these base ingredients, I stream in 1/3 cup of olive oil and chill the dressing in the refrigerator. This serves two.
Next, split a head of Romaine lettuce lengthwise. I use my long bread knife and saw it gently, as you need it to be in only 2 pieces. I brush on some olive oil, season it with salt and pepper and flash grill it on a piping hot grill for about a minute per side, with the lid down, until it is somewhat wilted and some edges are black. Plate the lettuce, smear on the dressing (which may need a quick stir), toss on lots of your peas and grate some Romano cheese over the top (please don't skip here with canned Parmesan and then e-mail me that the salad wasn't all that great; if it won't spoil, it is not food). Serve the salad warm.
For our second course tonight, I made my very simple "French Onion Soup". I describe it as simple because my wife has successfully lobbied for the omission of some classic components of this traditional dish (white wine, herbs, bacon) so as to make sure nothing obscures the essential flavors: beef, onion, cheese. She is so right.
First, I made some croutons from the remnants of last night's French Loaf, slicing it thin, painting on some olive oil and toasting them on both sides in the broiler until they were golden brown. Normally, I would steep the oil in garlic first and salt the croutons, but since I plan on drowning them later, there is no need. Do be careful while they are in the oven, as the gap between "perfect" and "charcoal" is pretty small. I do it with the oven door open (this is the lone exception to the "its not cooking while you're looking" mantra).
While I am
typically a stickler for exact ingredients, this is more art than science, but the room for error is very generous. Cook down 3 roughly chopped onions in half a stick of butter until they are very brown (about 20 minutes at medium/high heat). Don't worry if some of them blacken and stick; in fact, be glad, as these pieces are full of flavor). To the well-cooked onions, add about 6 cups of beef stock (not from a powder - it is immeasurably worse and more work than the real thing from
http://www.kitchenbasics.net/.) Then add only some salt and a healthy dose of Worcestershire Sauce. Adjust the heat to simmer and let it cook as long as you can stand to wait. Then place 2 or 3 of the croutons in an oven safe bowl, ladle in the soup, float one more crouton on top, and cover it with
Swiss cheese. Finish the soup under the broiler until the cheese is melted and some is even brown.
Please let me know if you tried it and what you thought.