Before Caesar Cardini, there was no Caesar Salad.

So, for this assignment, we were supposed to find some Italian American "object", or at least something that was perceived as being Italian, and then write about it. Write about whether or not it was an accurate representation of Italy or Italian culture, whether it was perpetuating stereotypes and making a mockery of Italian Americans (this prof always seemed to suspect the latter). I wrote this piece about a package of Caesar Salad Croutons that had "Italian Herb" seasoning. Please to enjoy.


HUI336
30 September 2006
Cafarelli


Before Caesar Cardini, there was no Caesar Salad.


One of the strongest perceptions people have about Italian and Italian Americans is that they are culinary masters, great creators of food and great eaters of that food. Pasta, Pizza, and Caesar salad are among the many stereotypically “Italian” foods the general public tends to associate with the culture; however, unlike the ambiguous origins of pizza and pasta, the Caesar Salad (according to a packet of Cardini’s Italian Herb Croutons that I recently purchased) has traceable origins. Apparently created by a restaurateur in not Italy nor even the United States, but in Tijuana Mexico, the Caesar Salad, one of the things most think of as being definitively Italian, is actually Italian-Mexican. However unlikely this story may seem, my family and I had heard it before, even seen it depicted on T.V., so it is not just a fabrication by the makers of the product, but is rather a widely accepted tale in society. So why then do we think of the Caesar salad as being stereotypically “Italian”? And what if anything does this package of croutons depict or say, that confirms or denies its “Italian-ness” as such?

For starters, the packaging is red white and green (bringing to mind the colors of the Italian flag). The subtitle “creator of the Caesar Salad in 1924” is obviously meant to convey a sense of authenticity about the origin of the product; however, nowhere on the package does it say Caesar Cardini created, or even used, a crouton in his salad. The croutons looked like ordinary squares to me, but apparently they are “gourmet cut”; again, the packaging fails to tell us what exactly is so gourmet about them. What is more, the croutons are “Italian herb” flavor; however upon further inspection of the ingredient list there is not a single herb to be mentioned, Italian or otherwise.

When we turn it over and examine the back, we can read the blurb about Cardini’s development of the salad, and the company’s line of dressings and other products, available in grocery and “specialty stores” (I bought this product at Stop and Shop). Although these croutons are supposed to represent the “true flavor of Italy”, the recipe the Marzetti Company gives us on the back is for a Greek salad, not an Italian one; and the product is manufactured in Columbus, Ohio, by the Marzetti Company (not, interestingly, the Cardini company), and so obviously the ingredients don’t come from anywhere in Italy. Julia Child, widely regarded as one of the best cooks in the world, made mention of the Caesar Salad in her book From Julia Child’s Kitchen. I do have this book and she recounts her experience of having tasted it at Cardini’s restaurant as a girl, then soliciting his daughter for the recipe years later. Because France and Italy share many of the same culinary ingredients, it is interesting that a Francophile such as Child would not have encountered such a recipe in her travels, and in actuality this anecdote adds credibility to the Cardini story. Cardini, because was so well established in not just America but Mexico as well, does seem to represent that idealism that so many immigrants strived to achieve; incorporated with the new world and its “giant, bubbling cauldron…in which Italian immigrants dived and swam until they spoke English with almost no accent and developed a marked preference for potatoes to spaghetti” (Mangione 239).

On the other hand, even though the invention of the Caesar Salad is commonly attributed to Caesar Cardini, I find it hard to believe that he is the very first person to have created it. Popularized it, perhaps, but not created it. For example, 1924 seems quite late to me for someone to “randomly” throw together eggs, garlic, pepper, lemon juice, olive oil, (Parmesan) cheese, and lettuce, calling it a new concoction: all of those ingredients are suspiciously common to most of Italy, not to mention France, Spain and Greece (among others). One of the most interesting things about this crouton package is its focus almost exclusively on the history and legacy of Cardini himself, and not really on the product. In this respect, if the story is true, then the Caesar Salad is more “Italian” than one might think at first glance: it is made up of inexpensive yet tasty, whole ingredients that all would have been common to an Italian household at that time. Immigrants were obliged to be resourceful with ingredients, so that too is a characteristic if not uniquely Italian, then at least common to immigrant culture. He was more than likely, as Puzo affirms, “a fine cook in the peasant style” (Hoobler 70) and essentially could make something out of nothing. Another question that needs to be addressed: if the croutons (and ostensibly the entire Caesar salad as well) are supposed to have the “true flavor of Italy”, then how can the invention of an immigrant to Mexico via the United States be called Italian, unless the recipe originated, at least loosely, in Italy to begin with? The uncertainty here is whether Cardini’s combination was common enough already to have been an established recipe. Even though croutons are by nature a complimentary food, that is to say an ingredient which is added to something else and never the main feature, this package over-endorses its product with an unnecessary historical song-and-dance. Most people probably aren’t looking for an elaborate history behind their croutons, unless (and this is probably the case) the attachment of such a story carries with it some sort of “Italian” affiliation, and the consumer feels somehow more “gourmet” for having bought it. So though it is possible that this recipe may date back to the famous emperor who bares its name, apparently it was not named for him, as many may believe. It was created by an immigrant to Mexico who (like many others) used his Italian ingenuity to create something delicious.

All in all, however, I don’t feel that these croutons truly represent that notion at all—I found them to be tasteless and commercial; after having tried the product, I will probably never buy it again. Nothing about the croutons was special or “gourmet”, or particularly Italian, for that matter. In fact, I almost felt that in my purchasing of this particular brand of crouton, I was taking away from the business of other crouton merchants (who don’t resort to that level of unnecessary histrionic advertisement, and yet provide a product that is essentially identical). Ultimately, I am happy for the Cardini family’s success; however I also believe that through this said success the production company has exploited the “Italian American-ness” of the salad’s creator, pushing a specific image rather than endorsing the inherent quality of the product.