The Seattle Caesar Salad Power Rankings

The Order: Chicory Caesar

Chicory caesar salads can taste like a mouthful of bitters, but not the one at this Capitol Hill pizza spot. Sharp radicchio is tempered by sweet romaine, a blizzard of pecorino romano and a zippy anchovy vinaigrette. The curveball? Fresh radish, snips of grassy chives, and crackly sourdough breadcrumbs distributed evenly for optimal crunch. Our sympathies if you're on Team Crouton.

The Order: Caesar With Happy Fried Chicken

We love this Wallingford bar for a nighttime snacks-and-drinks session or Sunday brunch—though they also happen to serve an outstanding caesar salad. The base is a blend of burly lacinato kale and some milder lettuces, with the occasional bundle of greens and parmesan shavings spackled together by an excess of creamy dressing. But what differentiates this bowl of Vitamin A from the rest of them are bonito flakes that add a dashi-flavored smokiness and crumbly croutons repurposed from the house focaccia. Add some fried popcorn chicken on top for best results.

The Order: Caesar Salad

Great pizza places usually make great caesars, and Tivoli is no exception to the rule. This one has everything you want, and nothing you don’t. The presence of chicories is faint enough, the excess of buttery parmesan melts into the dressing like snowflakes on a street puddle, and said dressing is both a leading role and unobtrusive at the same time—almost like a supermarket’s bottled Marie's got a style makeover. Nab a slice of tomato pie and plop some on top to make a salad slice. 

Tomo’s little gems capitalize on the earthy duo of sesame and seaweed—and it turns out that those nutty-roasty notes do wonders to elevate our old pal Caesar. Despite the addition of endive spears, the nori-spiked dressing tones down any possible bitterness, and fried shallots pop in for a subtle crunch. Croutons are MIA, but nobody will stop you from MacGuyvering the grilled bread appetizer into a jumbo-sized one.

The Order: Chicken Bacon Caesar

This Northgate sports bar understands that all salads can be improved with pork fat. Case in point: their chicken bacon caesar. Here, you get practically an entire serving bowl of crisp romaine loaded with a dressing that's the exact middle of the spectrum between mayo-y and vinaigrette-y. It clings nicely to tart kalamata-studded focaccia croutons, herby roasted chicken, and plenty of bacon strewn around—and the extra dose of smoke from lardons is a special touch that not many caesars can brag about. 

The Order: Pink Door Caesar

It’s mandatory to order certain dishes at The Pink Door. Most of them involve pasta, but you also can’t miss the caesar. The romaine-to-dressing ratio is always slick enough to coat the lettuce without waterlogging it, the croutons have fennel-crusted depth, and you can add Dungeness crab for seafood sustenance. 

The Order: Baby Head Lettuces And Mixed Radicchio

Bar Del Corso’s caesar is not technically a caesar, as it’s listed on the menu as “Baby Head Lettuces And Mixed Radicchio.” But we’re not here to argue semantics—it’s a mound of leaves with garlic anchovy dressing and a metric ton of shaved Parmigiano Reggiano. Also known as a caesar. A halved jammy egg imparts rich yolk among the chilled greens, and you won’t even notice that the thing has nary a bread element in sight (we didn’t). 

The Order: Serrano Caesar

The serrano caesar at this Ravenna Mexican spot is solid, spicy proof that riffing on a classic can totally pay off. Charred peppers get whizzed into the dressing for a roasty-toasty kick. Castelfranco and fresh cilantro mingle with romaine. And nixtamalized corn tortilla chip shards replace croutons, and turn out to be a better vehicle for mashed anchovy than stale bread could ever be.  

The Order: Kale Caesar Salad

No one comes to a BBQ restaurant for a kale caesar. Unless we’re talking about Wood Shop’s. It’s covered in peppery dressing and grated parmesan, and forms a dynamic duo with the restaurant’s mac and cheese. Say what you will about pit beans and potato salad. This little cup of curly kale is the best pairing for brisket and pork ribs.

The Order: Baby Gem Caesar Salad

Little gems used to be the hottest leaf on the block, and then they kind of disappeared from the caesar scene. This Maple Leaf steakhouse, however, makes an argument for the sweet, tender lettuce. The salad gets tossed with just about a tablespoon more dressing than you think you'd need—the best amount—plus oil-saturated croutons that we’d gladly throw in a Ziploc, bring to the movie theater, and annoy everyone with sonic-boom crunches.

The Order: House Caesar

Here in this rickety Ballard house is a caesar that’s as classic as they come—grated cheese pile and all—except that the croutons get a soak in red wine. The result is a biting, zingy crackle that goes well with the not-too-creamy, not-too-oily dressing clinging to each toasted groove.

The Order: All Kale Caesar! Salad

Windy City Pie’s kale caesar is like a magic trick. It tastes thoroughly caesary, but the dressing has the consistency of a vinaigrette. Despite this place being a church of deep-dish pizza, the salad is so tangy and delicious that it (almost) distracts us from lacy-crusted pies.

The Order: Little Gem Caesar, Add Salmon

After shopping for designer jeans with the invigorated fervor of the protagonist in a dance crew movie, don’t underestimate the power of an ice-cold caesar at Nordstrom Grill. Yes, this is a department store “restaurant,” but we’ll be damned, they make a great salad. It has a pleasantly normal dressing, tasty alderwood-smoked salmon, and a hunk of parmesan frico. That and a fountain drink, and you’ll be ready to tackle the clearance rack next.