Recipes for Life (34 page)

4 ounces (½ cup) butter-flavored shortening, chilled

5 to 6 tablespoons ice water

FOR FILLING:

2⅔ cups apple cider

2½ pounds (7 to 8) Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and sliced

¾ pound (2 to 3) Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored, and sliced

1 cup sugar

¼ cup all-purpose flour

¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon ground mace

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

FOR THE CRUST:

Combine the flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor. Add butter and shortening and pulse until mixture forms coarse crumbs. Add 2 tablespoons of ice water to the flour mixture. With the machine running, add additional water a tablespoon at a time until clumps form. Mold the dough into two balls, shape into two disks, and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

FOR THE FILLING:

Bring the apple cider to a boil in a saucepan over medium-high heat for about 20 minutes, until reduced to about ⅔ cup.

In a large bowl, combine the apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, salt, and mace. Add reduced cider and lemon juice. Toss well.

FOR THE PIE ASSEMBLY:

Preheat oven to 425°F.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out one disk of dough into a 14-inchdiameter circle. Transfer to a 10-inch pie plate. Don’t trim the edges yet. Turn the apples into the crust, and dot with the butter pieces.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the remaining dough into a 13-inch round. Roll it up on the rolling pin and unroll it on top of the pie. Trim the edges, leaving a 1-inch rim of dough. Fold that under and crimp the edges with your fingers or a fork. Slit the top crust with a knife a few times to let the steam escape.

Put the pie in the oven, with a baking sheet on the rack below it to catch any drips. Bake 30 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 350°F. Continue baking 45 minutes more. Cover the rim of the crust with foil if it darkens too quickly.

Remove the pie from the oven and allow it to cool at least 1 hour before cutting.

J
OHN
F
ORSYTHE WAS
always riding high when he would come to work after a weekend with his racehorses. Horses were his passion. His dream was to have a home where he could look out the window and see them grazing. Happily, after
Dynasty
, his dream came true. John lived on a magnificent thoroughbred farm in California’s beautiful Santa Inez Valley.

Because of John’s love of breeding and racing horses, he met and became friends with Marjorie Lindheimer Everett. Marje and I met in the mid-80s, and I have come to love her dearly. She and Bunky are the only people I call every day.

Marje is a woman ahead of her time. She was the owner and CEO of the famous Hollywood Park racetrack. She reminds me a lot of Barbara Stanwyck, in that she puts up a tough front to hide a gentle heart.

Marje is a powerful woman who accomplished greatness in what was still very much “a man’s world,” doing jobs in the 1940s like scouting players for her father’s football team, the Los Angeles Dons. Then later, after her father died in the 1960s, she took over his racetrack in Chicago.

I often stay with her when I come to LA because she is such an inspiration to me. At nearly ninety, she can hold me spellbound recalling the stories of her remarkable life.

In addition to our love of animals, another thing Marje and I definitely have in common is that we love bringing people together to celebrate over good food. She continues to be famous for her parties, not just because of the amazing cuisine and ambiance she provides, but because she unites friends from all walks of life, making for memorable evenings.

My friendship with Marje has enriched my life in countless ways. One year I flew with her to Texas for the Breeders’ Cup. As we walked around the racetrack, it was beautiful to see how many lives she’s touched. There was an endless sea of people coming up to thank her for the opportunities she gave them and the difference it made in their lives.

Aaron Spelling—the man that changed my life.

A few years later, Marje gave me an unforgettable opportunity.

When I had heard that Aaron Spelling was seriously ill, I sent him a note telling him how grateful I was that he chose me for the part of Krystle. He sent me back the dearest letter that I treasure to this day. As time went by, I shared with Marje that I was sad that I couldn’t see Aaron and tell him in person.

She had been best friends with the Spellings for years. Unbeknownst to me, she called Candy, and in spite of the fact that Aaron had not been
going out at all, she arranged for them to come to her house for an intimate dinner. She also invited John Forsythe. We had the most beautiful evening, reminiscing and laughing about all the great times we spent together. It was wonderful to be able to personally share with him the difference he made in my life.

The evening was bittersweet, because we all knew it would be the last time we’d ever see each other. It is a memory that I will always cherish.

O
VER THE YEARS
, every so often, I’d receive offers to do plays. But since I’d never even considered doing theater, Greeny stopped bothering to ask if I was interested. He would just turn down any offers. So I would never even have heard of a play called
Legends
if it weren’t for my friend Nolan Miller, who asked me to read it.

After I finished it, I remember thinking, I love this play! I think I’m going to do it. The premise was empowering: two strong women who hate each other, but because of circumstances, they end up friends, united in a common goal. I felt the play was a wonderful metaphor for life: even our enemies can help us reach mutually beneficial places.

Another thing I loved about the play is that it spoke to women, affirming that we may be in our sixties and seventies, but we still have plenty of life left in us; there are still things to do, to make known, and to conquer.

Also, because I felt I’d overcome my stage fright, thanks to all the speaking engagements I’d been doing around the world, I knew the crowds them selves wouldn’t be a problem. What I didn’t foresee was the difference between speaking and performing, particularly in an arena I knew so little about: the stage.

Everyone assured me the transition from film to stage would be a breeze. Especially since the part of Leatrice (originally played in the 1980s by Mary Martin) wasn’t all that different from Krystle, my character on
Dynasty
. The same was true about my costar’s role, Sylvia (originally played by Carol Channing)—it was very similar to Alexis Carrington, and would be played by Joan Collins.

The day I arrived in New York to start rehearsing, I knew I was in for a bumpy ride. I realized how much I had to learn and how fast I had to learn it before facing thousands of people. I was so out of my element, I didn’t even have a good sense of the basics: stage right, upstage, downstage. What I really wanted to do was exit stage left and keep running, but I kept telling myself I was too professional to do that.

Here we go again.

After a few days, I knew I needed some extra help, so I started going to a coach right after a full day of rehearsals. I’d catch a cab and go straight to her studio where we’d work until two or three in the morning. The routine was exhausting, but well worth it. I was getting a crash course in stage acting, literally days before we would start performing for an audience. As we began the tour in Toronto, I just kept plowing through the obstacles, holding to my belief that there is always a gift in every problem.

My first gift was the theater experience itself. I’d always heard it was incredibly rewarding, but I couldn’t really relate until I was a part of it. There is something so satisfying about working in front of an audience. It’s a living connection; you and the audience are one.

Making new friends was another gift that was easy to recognize. Joan and I were working with an amazing cast of talented and supportive actors I still keep in touch with. The play also gave me the opportunity to get even closer to Bunky’s daughter Tracy whom I’d known since she was just a little thing and has always been like a member of my family. Bunky knew that she wasn’t up to spending nine months touring the States, but she wanted to be absolutely certain I was well taken care of, so she asked Tracy if she would take over for her. Lucky for me, Tracy thought it sounded like a wonderful adventure.

A mother of three grown gorgeous girls of her own, Tracy is a chip off the old Bunky block. She has an outrageous sense of humor and, just like her mom, could always find a way to make me laugh no matter what kind of stress we were under.

Tracy just slipped effortlessly right into Bunky’s shoes, which was a lifesaver for me, with all the unknowns and the resulting pressures. She was forever thinking up new ways to keep me light and laughing, including getting a fart machine to shock visitors that were obviously expecting to meet a very different Linda Evans from the one with the outrageous noises echoing out of her dressing room.