A Caesar with Cruciferous Substance

When glutamate-rich Parmesan cheese meets anchovies, which contain a meaty-tasting nucleotide called inosine monophosphate (IMP), the two ingredients create an intense synergy that delivers maximum umami. Garlic, Worcestershire sauce, and mustard add piquancy, and citrus juice lifts the flavor.

Raw egg yolks bring everything together with their lecithin, which unites the naturally standoffish watery components and fatty components in a creamy emulsion so that the dressing can evenly coat crisp romaine lettuce. 

But that bold, rich dressing can stand up to much more than leaf lettuce. The savor and slight pungence of broccoli, an increasingly popular alternative, is an obvious flavor-science match for the punchy dressing, and the crunch of the brassica makes the eating experience all the more dynamic. 

That said, a traditional Caesar dressing is a little too thin to coat the florets and stalks of sturdy broccoli. So I swapped the egg and oil in the traditional formula for ¼ cup of store-bought mayonnaise, which created a dressing with body (and was also easier to make).

I whisked in an equal volume of finely grated Parmesan along with some minced anchovies and garlic, a big spoonful of Dijon mustard, and a bit of pepper. Lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce balanced the flavor and loosened the consistency slightly. I tasted a bit, winced at its intensity, and pronounced it perfect—because a dressing that you can eat by the spoonful is far too feeble for this salad.

Some cooks simply chop the broccoli and serve it raw, while others roast the florets before cooling them briefly and dressing them. I felt more inclined toward the latter: Roasting coaxes such complexity from the humble vegetable and also softens its woody texture.

Plus, I was already planning to use the oven to toast some large, craggy croutons, made from torn rustic bread brushed with the extra savory oil from the anchovy tin.

But when I tried my all-roasted Caesar, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

I realized that I’d overlooked one of romaine’s most valuable attributes: its succulence. When you bite into a leaf, its cells explode with refreshing juices that literally cleanse the palate in preparation for the next bite.

My roasted broccoli Caesar needed some moisture, and I realized I had the perfect solution discarded on my cutting board: I could roast the florets and then toss them with thin slices of the base of the crown, which would provide the essential contrasting succulence (and the thin-slicing would ensure the pieces weren’t too tough to chew).

Doused in the powerhouse dressing and topped with generous shavings of Parmesan and freshly cracked black pepper, the combination of roasted and raw broccoli provided the perfect amount of umami complexity and juicy freshness.