Recipes for Life (20 page)

When Bunky went to see our wigs, which were on three wig stands, she decided that the one with my name on it wasn’t the best looking. So later, when no one was around, Bunky snuck in and switched the nametags. This is a long overdue apology, but sorry Loni—Bunky didn’t tell me until after we were done shooting.

In all honesty, it was as much my fault, I suppose. Because whenever Bunky gets that devious twinkle in her eye and can’t wait to tell me what she’s plotting, I always hold up my hands and insist: “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.”

The last Bob Hope special I did was in Paris, which was an added bonus, but I would have gone to the ends of the earth for another chance to laugh and work with Bob.

Bob and his geishas: Loni Anderson, Barbara Eden, and me.

I
N THE FIRST
year or so of
Dynasty
, we still weren’t sure how long we’d be on the air, so any time an opportunity came along to make some extra money, I jumped on it. I actually ended up working most weekends for the first couple of seasons.

Greeny decided that
Circus of the Stars
would be good exposure for me, but Bunky was adamant that I not do anything ridiculous: “Linda isn’t doing any stinking poodle act. It has to be something really exciting or forget it.”

The producers called to let us know that there was a leopard act in the Midwest that sounded perfect. The next weekend, Bunky and I flew out to the middle of nowhere to meet Sheba, a two-hundred-pound leopard, and her trainer. Bunky and I agreed that the leopard was very impressive. So I worked with Sheba that evening, taking her through her routine, which went very smoothly.

Later, when we were flying home, even though we were exhausted, Bunky was really thrilled that I wasn’t doing something lame or tame. She said, “Now this is an act you can sink your teeth into.”

Sheba landed the job, so
Circus of the Stars
brought her to Los Angeles to work with me. She arrived during a brutal heat wave, which turned the San Fernando Valley into a 113-degree oven. As I was getting ready to leave for my first rehearsal with Sheba, Bunky suddenly decided she had much too much work to do in the nice chilly air-conditioned office. I was on my own.

I’d imagined there would be at least a tent between the scorching sun and us, but instead they set up a few staggered pedestals out in the open.

Me and Sheba when we were still friends.

I had a hoop for Sheba to jump through and a little whip to convince her who was boss. But after the first command, it was clear Sheba wasn’t buying it. Her trainer told me I had to be more assertive with the leopard; this wasn’t one of my sweet little kitties at home. She also made it clear that when you are dealing with a wild animal, you must take control right away. Easier said than done. Being someone who won’t even step on a spider, I wasn’t comfortable hitting Sheba with the whip, even if it only was on her paw. But everyone insisted that it was the only way.

Sheba was up on a pedestal that put her just above my head. Next thing I knew, I had a leopard leaning down and roaring right in my face. She was inches from me and she and I both knew who had won. But the trainer still insisted that all I needed to do was gain Sheba’s respect.

I’m not one to give up easily, but it was clear neither of us was having much fun; plus, I really didn’t want to hurt her. Thankfully, she didn’t really want to hurt me either—otherwise, a moment later, when she leaped off the pedestal and drove me onto my back with her teeth in my chest, she would have killed me. For a moment everyone thought she might have, but then Sheba simply stepped away from me, while all hell broke loose.

I guess I was in shock because it took me a while to realize what had happened. I was more upset by the fact that Sheba had torn my favorite shirt than that one of her teeth had punctured my chest. Even though I really felt like I was okay, they rushed me to the hospital, where they bandaged my chest and gave me a tetanus shot.

Later, with my shirt in tatters and my now black-and-blue chest heavily bandaged, I returned to my air-conditioned home to find Bunky sipping wine and chatting on the phone. I just stood in the doorway staring at her until she finally looked up. After her initial horrified reaction, she said, “Very funny. Nice try, but I’m not falling for it.”

I didn’t say anything. I just continued staring at her. When she finally realized it wasn’t a joke, Bunky went crazy and wanted to hunt down Sheba and her trainer (they fortunately had disappeared without a trace right after the incident). When Greeny found out, he wanted to hunt Bunky down for not being there to throw herself in front of the cat instead of nearly getting his client killed.

The good news was, not too long after my ordeal with Bunky, Greeny, and the other wildcat—I realized that I might not need to be doing so many sideshows.

T
URNING FORTY IS
supposed to be stressful, but I loved it. Much to Greeny’s horror, I have always admitted my real age. As I turned forty, I realized I wouldn’t go back to being younger. I had earned wisdom, which more than compensated for the downside of aging.

I also ended up having one of the most romantic birthdays of my life, since George arranged to take me on the legendary Orient Express from Paris to Venice.

The train was classically elegant, a true work of art. I felt like we had stepped back in time: everyone was beautifully dressed for dinner, the staff and waiters all saw to our every need. The food was unforgettable; all the dishes were prepared on the train by French chefs.

Yes, turning forty turned out to be wonderful.

Around that time I did a commercial for Clairol and in it I announced to the world, “Forty isn’t fatal.”

I loved that Joan Collins and I were older than most leading women on TV and that our characters were portrayed as glamorous and vital. I thought it was a wonderful message for women everywhere.

Turning forty also helped me to look at my life from a different perspective. It became very clear to me that my biological clock was ticking, ticking, ticking, and I was still holding to the dream of having my own family. While George and I adored each other and loved cooking and traveling together, we both knew we wouldn’t be together forever. It was time for us to get on with our lives and just be friends.

Romance on the Orient Express.

The Barefoot Contessa
is one of my all-time favorite cookbooks, and Ina’s version of Filet of Beef Bourguignon is one I have been making for years. It’s easily something that could have been served on the Orient Express during that wonderful birthday adventure! It cooks quickly and the filet is so incredibly tender. A special thanks to Ina Garten and her publisher, Clarkson Potter, for allowing me to share this recipe with you.

Copyright Ina Garten. All rights reserved.

1 3-pound filet of beef, trimmed

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

3 to 4 tablespoons good olive oil

¼ pound bacon, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

1½ cups good dry red wine, such as Burgundy or Chianti

2 cups beef stock

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 sprig fresh thyme

½ pound pearl onions, peeled

8 to 10 carrots, cut diagonally into 1-inch-thick slices

3 tablespoons unsalted butter at room temperature

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

½ pound mushrooms, sliced ¼-inch thick (domestic or wild)

With a sharp knife, cut the filet crosswise into 1-inch-thick slices. Salt and pepper the filets on both sides. In a large, heavy-bottomed pan on medium-high heat, sauté the slices of beef in batches with 2 to 3 tablespoons oil until browned on the outside and very rare inside, about 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Remove the filets from the pan and set aside on a platter.

In the same pan, sauté the bacon on medium-low heat for 5 minutes, until browned and crisp. Remove the bacon and set it aside. Drain all the fat, except 2 tablespoons, from the pan. Add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds.

Deglaze the pan with the red wine and cook on high heat for 1 minute, scraping the bottom of the pan. Add the beef stock, tomato paste, thyme, 1 teaspoon salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Bring to a boil and cook uncovered on medium-high heat for 10 minutes. Strain the sauce and return it to the pan. Add the onions and carrots and simmer uncovered for 20 to 30 minutes, until the sauce is reduced and the vegetables are cooked.