Ted Lasso's shortbread
This weekend I succumbed to Covid fatigue.
I had been keeping it together fairly well over the past several months, but the huge winter storm we experienced in February was the beginning of my mental and emotional undoing. While we were among the lucky few who didn’t lose electricity, water, or gas, worrying about everything and everyone, particularly our neighbors who had no heat or food, along with the sheer rage at Ted Cruz and our statewide officials, tapped my emotional reserves. I told my spouse that I was really looking forward to not being sad and worried all the time.
Then, a few signs of hope. The numbers were looking good both locally and across the country. The light at the end of the pandemic tunnel was looking brighter each day. Then, March 2 came. Our esteemed governor declared Texas open for business and rescinded the statewide mask mandate. I don’t think I have the words to describe how angry and devastated I felt when he made that announcement. It felt like a mob hit. The winter storm didn’t kill enough of us, so Abbott was coming in to finish the job.
On Friday, I took Harrison up to school to get some official portraits made for the yearbook. The dry erase board in the gym where they were taking photos was dated March 12, 2020, the last day my children were in their school buildings. To be confronted with this horrible time capsule, tangible evidence of the year that has just melted away outside our four walls was crushing. When I think about everything my children have lost over the past year, how much joy has been stolen from them, I can barely breathe.
So, come Sunday, I was a mess. There were crying jags (yes, plural). It wasn’t pretty. I went into the backyard and weeded the vegetable beds while listening to Why Are Dads, which helped. Then I parked myself in front of the TV with a puzzle and cued up Ted Lasso and spent the next five hours watching the entire first season. If I’d had a weighted blanket, I would have curled up underneath it.
Early in the season, Ted establishes “biscuits with the boss,” in which he brings a tidy pink box with four bars of shortbread inside to his boss, Rebecca’s office. This ritual helps Ted, who is aggressively kind and optimistic, endear himself to Rebecca. There’s a quick scene in which he is extolling a certain bbq sauce from Kansas City and excitedly asks her whether there’s a food that unlocks the joy of childhood, and she cuts her eyes to the box of shortbread. It’s such a quick little moment, almost a throwaway, but it’s fraught with meaning.
In the past couple of days, I’ve baked hot cross buns, cream scones, and Ted Lasso’s shortbread. The first two didn’t work out so great — the buns didn’t prove right so they were a little dense, and the scones turned out flat and crispy because I rolled them too thin and cut them too small. But the shortbread. Oh my god. I may have to quit while I’m ahead because I may not bake anything better than this in my life.
The shortbread tastes a little nutty, even though there aren’t nuts in it. The recipe I used called for lemon zest, and you can detect it, but it’s just a little pop of sunshine here and there rather than a distinct lemon flavor. It’s a sophisticated pastry, and practically demands a cup of tea as accompaniment.
It’s so damn good, I’m going to have to package most of it up and deliver it to neighbors just so I don’t eat it all. I don’t have any tidy pink boxes, though.
It might be a tiny spoiler for me to tell you that in the show, you learn that the shortbread Ted brings to the office isn’t bought; he’s been making it in his apartment every Sunday night and lovingly packing the boxes for the week ahead. There are lots of ways we are meant to understand Ted as a selfless caregiver, from his leadership style on the pitch to how he navigates his marriage. But it’s the behind-the-scenes look at Ted’s ritual of care for Rebecca that I find particularly soothing. Maybe because baking for people is my love language, and I needed a reminder that sometimes, taking care of others is the best medicine.
But sometimes it’s becoming one with the couch for an entire afternoon and well past sunset.
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We loved Ted Lasso too! I'm a bit scared to try this shortbread since my ability to stop eating during this pandemic is pretty close to zero! Seriously, though thanks for posting this recipe and posting about all the big feelings that have been happening these months. Light at the end of the tunnel, keep moving forward...