About The Banks County news. (Homer, Banks County, Ga.) 1968-current | View Entire Issue (June 25, 2025)
PAGE 4A BANKS COUNTY NEWS WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25, 2025 Opinion How amazing it was Even at the young age of 18, I watched it all in real time. And, though I was short on years and wisdom, I knew it was nothing short of amazing. There is a preface to this story. It isn’t fluff. It’s im portant to tell. Countless have been the times that I have been at a speaking engagement or book sign ing and had someone come through my line. It happens almost the same way every time. The person will be in the middle of the line, which keeps others waiting until, finally, five minutes in, I will say, “Would you mind waiting and coming back when I’ve finished signing? I hate to hold up all these people.” If Tink is with me, he helps with books but then he gets pulled into a conver- Ronda Rich sation by that same person who asks, “Once this book [they’re proposing to write] is a bestseller, how do I turn it into a movie? Or do I write the movie first?” Tink, despite his 30 years in Hollywood, is always kind and patient. Mean while, I’m left with no help at the book table. When I finish, I say, “I’m sorry you had to wait. How may I help you?” “I’d like your guidance on writing a book.” I nod. “What do you want to write?” Usually, the answer is similar to one of two: “I’m one of many children. Daddy died and Mama raised us by herself. I put myself through law school.” I love those kinds of ideas. The one I hate is “I don’t know. I just want to write a book.” Most people write books like the ones they read. I have a friend who devours Westerns. He’s written over 23 cow- boy books. “What do you read?” I’ll ask. “I don’t.” Wrong answer. My reply? “Then, you can’t write a book if you don’t read them.” This to tell you about a woman named LaVenier Hicks who wanted to write so badly that she put every thing she had into it. Her full-time job was at a zip per plant where, after many years, she worked her way up to plant manager be fore it finally closed. She wrote freelance for our lo cal, daily newspaper where I worked as an intern. She got off from work at four and, within an hour, came running into the news room, waving pages of stories she had written. There were days that she wrote the en tire front page even though we were well-staffed. I re member one day, that there were four front page stories and she had written every one while working a full time job. Her ability to turn out massive quantities of qual ity stories was stunning. All while working a full-time job. LaVenier may have had a high school degree but I doubt she had a college di ploma. Yet, she figured out the art to crafting a capti vating story then did it over and over and over. For $25 per assignment. Imagine working hard on chasing down sources for days while working full- time. She won awards. She won trust. And she won everyone’s admiration. She was a star. She could sniff out a story from a coun try mile away. Her sourc es were always strong and never wrong. She found an old man at the foot of Blood Mountain in Lumpkin County. He had a farmer’s stoop from all the years a mule had pulled his plow. He handcrafted spinning wheels and fiddles and was considered one of the best fiddle players the Appalachians had ever produced. He took a likin’ to LaVenier and took spe cial care with the table and chairs he built for her. His history, she told with admi ration and precision. That man, our Uncle Os car Cannon, raised daddy. Before she died, she wrote the book of his life and ac complishments because she knew what she wanted to write and what drew her. Oh, how amazing that woman was. Ronda Rich is the best-selling of the Stella Bankwell Mystery series. Visit www.rondarich.com to sign up for her free weekly newsletter. Revisiting the soul of the old Athens Varsity By Loran Smith WATKINSVILLE - Since the Varsity on Broad Street in Athens closed its doors, I have not had a chilidog and a frosted orange in many moons until last week when I stopped by the location on Hog Mountain Road near Watkinsville. Believe it or not there are eight Varsity locations, in cluding the original estab lishment on North Avenue in Atlanta—but not one in Athens. That means for lo cal Varsity aficionados there is no chance of heartburn, but we would gladly settle for that over the frustrations that come with having to drive twelve miles instead of right around the corner. There are six additional locations—Gwinnett, Ken nesaw, Dawsonville, Beth lehem, Cartersville, and Rome—which is a reminder that Varsity food is still in demand. Old timers will remember the halcyon days when you could drop by the down- town Varsity in Athens for a warm welcome from the late Epp Suddath, the impresario of the restaurant for many years, which means that in many respects he was the de facto mayor of Athens. Nothing went on in our town in the fifties and six ties that Epp did not know about since The Varsity was the coffee drinking hub of the downtown business reg ulars, and the UGA admin istrative gang, anchored at the old Academic Building. They gathered at the Varsi ty for coffee, snacks, lunch, gossip, and small talk. Two of the mainstays who managed the counter and were as highly regarded in the downtown community as Uga, the Bulldog mascot, were “Brown and Doyal,” whose driver’s license iden tified them as Otha Brown and Doyal Jarrett. “Dog-talk” was on every body’s agenda year-round. If a player was in academ ic distress or was having trouble with his girlfriend, Brown and Doyle knew about it. They were more than behind-the-scenes purveyors of whispers and hushed conversation—they were worried men “sing ing a worried song.” They wanted the ‘Dogs to reign supreme. During my recent Varsi ty excursion, I felt the at mosphere was reminiscent of the past except we were out in the country and not at arms-length of the Arch and Barnett’s News Stand. There was one thing missing however, and that was the time-honored Varsity lingo sounding forth by the cast of the past, led by Doyal. If you are long in the tooth, you likely remember many of them: A “Skeet” was a Coke; an orange was a “squirt”; a PC was a choc olate milk with ice; NIPC was a no ice PC; a “hobo soda” was a glass of water; “Joe” was black coffee and “white Joe,” was coffee with cream; Mayo was, “grease,” if you wanted apple and peach pie with a scoop of vanilla, you asked for an “Alamo”. If you were interested in a “naked steak,” that meant you were ordering a ham burger with nothing on it. When Epp Suddath attended the World’s Fair in Chicago in 1933 and learned about burlesque dancer Sally Rand, a naked steak became a Sally Rand. A “C-dog,” was a regular hotdog with catsup. A “Chil li dog walking,” was a Chil li dog to go, a “naked dog” was simply a hot dog and a bun. George Suddath, Epp’s youngest son, grew up at the Varsity and has this memo ry: “I can hear Doyal right now, ‘Gimme two dogs all the way, Chilli steak, ring, a fry, two skeets, peach, apple pie, walking. Before the customer had his wallet out of his pocket, he would have calculated the cost in cluding sales tax in his head. If the customer had the cor rect change, he would throw the money in a washed out two-gallon mayo jar to be counted and put into the main cash register later.” You may have noticed there is no signature refer ence to a very popular Var sity staple, a hamburger. I have a reason for addressing this item last. A hamburger in Varsity vernacular was a “steak.” If it was “glorified” or “through the garden,” that mean lettuce and tomato were added. When in high school, our coach brought a couple of carloads of his players to Athens. We could get stu dent tickets for a dollar as I recall. Lunch at the Varsity was truly a treat, not just a filling meal, but a cultural experience. My memory is that a ham burger cost 15 cents and a Coke was a dime. So, I counted out 40 cents and meekly worked my way up to the counter from the stree and whispered to Doyal whom I did not know at the time, “I’d like to order two hamburgers and a Coke.” With that Doyal yelled out, “Pair of steaks anda skeet.” I immediately panicked since I did not understand the lingo, crying out, “No no I said hamburgers no steaks.” Doyal could no stop laughing as I was dumbfounded by all of the hullabaloo. When I ordered my luncl at the Watkinsville Varsi ty last week, I enjoyed my meal like always, but whet I finished, I stood aside near the counter afterwards and bowed in memory o Brown, Doyal, Epp and the unforgettable characters who hung out at the Down town Varsity as I was learn ing the facts of life. Loran Smith is a UGA an nouncer and a columnist foi Mainstreet Newspapers. Balancing salty and sweet with the salted chocolate pistachio cookie By Melisssa Reycraft There is no denying my love of chocolate. It consumes me, almost as much of my love of salt. In fact, I teeter-totter between which I’m craving and in which form. Will it be a secretly salty dinner adorned with capers or will it be a wonderful scoop of roasted strawberry ice cream? Most of the time I can’t decide so whenever I can find the perfect excuse to balance the two I jump all over it. And thus the perfect salted chocolate pistachio cookie was born. I’ve not come across a chocolate cookie I love as much as this one. The edges are crisp, the center soft, the salt on top hits your tongue with each bite, and the pistachios add a much needed earthy crunch that cuts through the rich chocolate base allow ing you to eat more than you anticipated. However, if you’re like my daughter and prefer to have your pistachios in a bowl rather than baked in a cookie, you can omit the green nuggets of goodness and opt for white chocolate chips instead. She insisted she wouldn’t like the cook ies baked with pistachios and I insisted, motherly, that she would indeed enjoy them baked in the cookie. She did not enjoy them baked in the cookie and I was left making another batch studded with white in stead of green. No loss though, now we have more sweet and salty cookies to satiate my crav ings. Yield 18-20 cookies 215 grams all purpose flour 50 grams dutch process cocoa powder 1 teaspoon baking powder 7/2 teaspoon baking soda 130 grams unsalted but ter, room temperature 145 grams granulated sugar 150 grams dark brown sugar % teaspoon kosher salt 1 large egg 1 large yolk 2 teaspoons vanilla ex tract 100 grams chocolate chunks (or chips) 100 grams lightly salt ed and roasted pistachios (slightly crushed) Maldon sea salt for sprin kling -Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking tray with parchment paper or a nonstick silicone baking mat. -In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa pow der, baking powder, and baking soda. -In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream together the dark brown sugar, gran ulated sugar, salt, and butter until light and fluffy. -With the mixer set to low speed, add the egg and yolk. Mix until combined, scrape down the sides, and add the vanilla extract. -Add the flour mixture and mix on low speed until almost combined. Add the pistachios and chocolate chunks and mix until no flour streaks remain. -Scoop cookies using a large cookie scoop (about 2 tablespoons worth or 60 grams). Place 8 scoops, evenly spaced, on your pre pared half sheet tray. Lightly flatten the tops us ing the palm of your hand or the bottom of a clean glass. Sprinkle maldon sea salt on top of each cookie. -Bake for 10-12 minutes until the middle of the cook ies have slightly puffed and the cookie no longer looks shiny on top. The middle will be soft but will con tinue to set as it cools. Let cool completely on the tray before enjoying. You can bake the remaining cook ies in batches or flatten the tops and freeze in an airtight freezer bag for later use. When baking from frozen, add 1 minute to the baking time. Melissa Reycraft lives in Hoschton and is a former New York City pastry chef. Reycraft worked as a pastry sous chef at Rainbow Room in NYC and Four Seasons Restaurant and holds a de gree from the Institute of Culinary Education in NYC. Photo by Melissa Reycraft The salted chocolate pistachio cookie balances cravings for both salty and sweet treats. The Banks County News Homer, GA 30547 Founded 1968 The official legal organ of Banks County, Ga. Mike Buffington Scott Buffington Angela Gary Go-Publisher Go-Publisher Editor BanksNewsTODAY.com (SCED 547160) Published weekly by MainStreet Newspapers, Inc., P.O. Box 908, Jefferson, Ga. 30549 Yearly subscription rate: $45 Regular Seniors $40 Periodicals postage paid at Homer, Ga. 30547 (547-160) Postmaster: send address changes to: MainStreet Newspapers, Inc., PO Box 908, Jefferson, Georgia 30549-0908
