Someone I work with who shall remain nameless (but whose name is Rob), told me last week about a thing called “The Emmy Curse” whereupon you win an Emmy and then after your current show shuts down production for the season, you can’t get hired anywhere else in town.
“It happens, dude!” Rob said. “I’ve seen it. You get an Emmy (I won mine for Trisha’s Southern Kitchen) and you think, ‘Oh, they’re gonna be lining up to get me on board their projects! I’ll have the pick of the litter!’ And then… nothing!” And when he said the word “nothing,” he made that “finger-across-the-neck” gesture like movie mobsters do when they want their henchmen to throw the piano player out the window because he squealed to the Feds.
Coincidentally, the show I’m working on ends production for the season in less than seven days, and a slow sneaking sense of dread has inched its way into my brain, along with the distant echoing voice of my mother, “You should have gone to law school like I told you! Community college isn’t enough!” Of course what she’s never understood is that in television, community college is actually more than enough. You could end up running an entire studio based on nothing more than a half-semester at The Phoenix Rodeo Clown Institute. But that still doesn’t guarantee that you’ll keep working after you win an Emmy.
So come July first, I’ll have to make a decision: enjoy my time off and be grateful it’s happening smack dab in the middle of summer, or indulge in what is commonly known as “Producer Panic,” whereupon you might find me at a freeway exit peddling day-old carnation bundles and some lop-sided grapefruits with an Emmy on a leash where a stray dog is supposed to be.
But whichever way it goes, I’ll do my best to remain brave, stalwart and above the petty vindictiveness that so many Hollywood types indulge in when the phone doesn’t ring.
This of course will only happen only after I crush Rob’s career completely by trashing his reputation all over town. The “finger-across-the-neck” gesture works both ways. If I were that ass-panda, I’d start looking into a good Rodeo Clown Institute.
Trisha Yearwood Lemon Squares
- 1 cup butter
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar
- 4 large eggs
- 5 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 2 tablespoons grated lemon zest
- 2 cups granulated sugar
- 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- Confectioners’ sugar, for sprinkling
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and spray a 9x13x2-inch pan with cooking spray.
For the crust: Melt the butter in a medium saucepan. Mix the flour and confectioners’ sugar in a bowl and add the melted butter, mixing until a dough forms. Press the mixture firmly into the pan. Bake the crust for 25 minutes.
For the filling: While the crust is baking, combine the eggs, lemon juice, zest, granulated sugar, flour, baking powder and salt and beat until smooth. Pour the mixture over the baked crust. Bake for 20 minutes more.
Remove pan from the oven and let it cool completely. Sprinkle the top with confectioners’ sugar, cut and serve.