O Spring, bring us the crunch!
Photos by Donna Campbell
I have spent most of my life searching and sampling onion rings that I hoped might measure up to those served at Atlanta’s Varsity Drive-In. The hot dog and hamburger haven, founded in 1928, originally offered chili dogs for a nickel and ice-cold Coca-Cola in small, sweating bottles. Even in the Depression era it was an instant and durable hit that my parents loved.
By its 75th anniversary in 2003, the downtown institution reported using 2,000 pounds of onions a day, both sliced for rings and chopped to top hot dogs. They rolled out 5,000 peach and apple fried pies (hand-sized) and served 2 million cups of Coke in that year.
Varsity chocolate milk , called a PC, still comes in a short carton with a cup of ice. (“PC” stands for plain chocolate.) The drive-in was also the first place to serve orange soda in my hometown Today they offer an orange milkshake known as a Frosted Orange. My mother always ordered the chicken salad sandwich on toast and a Frosted Orange.
The Varsity’s take-out boxes carry the slogan, “No Food Over 12 Hours Old,” which means that the netted bags of Idaho potatoes for fries, the ton of onions, the buns and all the hamburger meat, hot dogs, chicken for salad, and pimiento cheese are restocked twice every day.
I could go on, but for me, the Varsity has always been about the onion rings--big sliced sweet rounds, thinly battered and fried quickly on a high heat. Every ring would shatter when bitten, the crumbling crispness followed by the taste of warm, sweet onion. The batter recipe is still a secret, but creamy butter has been revealed as an ingredient. Each delicate O is more tempura-like than anything.
I’d pretty much given up on this quest for Varsity-quality ORs in recent years, bemoaning the rings at restaurants that literally cloak their onions in heavy, tweed-like jackets—more hushpuppy than airy pastry. Only my culinary friend, the Fox from Knoxville, once approximated the Atlanta tradition on a visit to North Carolina, but he rarely carries a deep fryer when traveling.
Even the Varsity itself, in my last few visits in recent years, has fallen down. There now seems to be inadequate draining of the holy cooking oil, while the probability of rings too long cooled before serving has also increased. Some time ago the third generation of the founding family began ordering pre-sliced onions, taking away one of the most interesting spectacles in the back of the kitchen which could be witnessed through picture windows as you stood among the crush of customers in line to pick up orders.
Just this April, as the weather finally warmed, I went for the first time to Hillsborough, North Carolina’s newly restored Colonial Inn. I have such pleasant memories of the meat-and-three lunches there in the 1970s and 80s among lawyers and judges taking a break from their posturing in the Orange County Courthouse nearby.
It is nothing short of a miracle that a buyer finally invested in a complete restoration of the 1838 building, which was purported to have been preceded by a 1759 facility on the same site, according to some sources. To have a Sunday dinner/brunch reinstated is also a great comfort.Yes, the menu has changed, and I do miss the butter beans and the squash casserole. But now onion rings reside on the list of appetizers, and they rival the Varsity’s best days! These ORs are served with three distinctive dips—a garlic parmesan spread—almost like a pimiento cheese but with red pepper flakes, a satisfying house ranch dressing, and a buffalo sauce that our server said contains an obscene amount of butter folded into a red sauce suitable for wings. The crunch is lively!
I say order them for the table so they can be shared in a hot haste. Our server also told us that one of the chefs casually made these rings for the staff after hours one night, and it was promptly promoted to the menu.
A few weeks later, Donna Campbell and I made a food pilgrimage to one of Winston Salem’s most reliably creative restaurants—also an homage to Winston’s past with the name 1703 Restaurant. It’s in the West End at Robinhood and Reynolda Roads. The chef had sourced his own ramps over the weekend from the NC mountains and combined them in a frittata with asparagus (also still in season) and topped with fresh strawberries that had been delicately marinated in something slightly acidic.
It was not only a beautiful blend of spring’s ephemeral bounty, but the dish came with a restrained drizzle of citrus hollandaise. This restaurant is a reliable stop for fresh seafood, duck, beef, pork, chicken and some of the kinds of Southern vegetables—collards, succotash, slaw, and sweet potatoes—that we missed on the Colonial Inn’s new menu. Donna ordered the soft shell crab, another savory seasonal favorite. It made me believe the chef in Winston might also do onion rings well! The micro greens were a perfect topping.
Both restaurants are highly recommended.
Makes my mouth water.
“…taking a break from their posturing…” ha ha ha ha ha