Monthly Archives: April 2013

Off to the races!

When I was a kid I was obsessed with the Black Stallion series of books. I wanted to be Alec Ramsay and grow up to be a horse jockey and ride an Arabian in the Kentucky Derby. My dad told me that if I was still desperate for a horse by age 14 he’d consider letting me get one; of course (as he knew), by then I’d shelved the Black Stallion books and was busy eyeing up C. Thomas Howell and Rob Lowe on the pages of Tiger Beat magazine.

At any rate, I never got a horse. I now horseback ride maybe once a year, and I had never been to the Kentucky Derby, or any other horse race, for the matter — the Chucks at the Calgary Stampede don’t count — until last weekend.

And they're off! It's pretty exciting watching the horses start from the gate. I love that we could watch from the rail.

And they’re off! It’s pretty exciting watching the horses start from the gate. I love that we could watch from the rail and that, inexplicably, there’s a tractor in the field.

Horse racing is a big deal in the southern U.S. This time of year everyone is gearing up for the Derby, even the horsey folks in Arkansas. For fun on the weekend people head to Oaklawn Park Race Track in Hot Springs, where you can eat corn beef sandwiches, drink cold beer and bet on the horses.

We went on a gloomy Saturday with my sister Leslie and my brother-in-law Kyle, who were also visiting for Easter. To make the most of our Oaklawn experience, my mom, a horse-races regular, had sent us with “Rick Lee’s Oaklawn Park selections and analysis” from the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, and also some guy named Terry’s picks, that she printed off the Internet. We had no idea who Terry was, but horse betting baffled us, and we needed guidance in order to lose our money properly.

Between the four of us were down about $20 on the day. Not bad, right?

Between the four of us were down about $20 on the day. Not bad, right?

The tricky thing about putting money on a horse is there is really no good way to predict a winner. Bluesie Brown might be favoured to win the first race, for example, but perhaps she ate too many sugar cubes last night and is feeling sluggish, or maybe Berry, her jockey, went out on a bender and is in no condition to ride. And there’s always the possibility that Little Frilly will “become a logical threat if able to hold form or improve for new trainer Jack Frost,” but then again she might lose it in the homestretch. You just never know. Plus it had been raining so the track was what they call “sloppy.” A game changer.

Some betters liked to wait until the horses were paraded past the grandstand prior to post time. This way, they could see if a favoured horse seemed skittish, or if an underdog was showing well. Or, they could pick a horse based on the rider’s silks.

Love these Texas longhorn silks -- nice!

Love these Texas longhorn silks — nice! Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to help No. 8’s performance.

In the end I came up with a process of triangulating Terry’s, Rick Lee’s and Oaklawn’s picks, and then going with the horse whose name resonated with me. Oddly, it kind of worked (also, I was placing the bet with the lowest risk — $2 across on my horse, which means I’d likely get something if my horse were to win, place or show, depending on the odds). Little Frilly won the first race, Beer Garden placed for me in the second race, Perdido Pass took the third, Would You placed in the fifth and Adaya showed in the sixth. My big disappointment was Runaway Crypto, who evidently does not run well on a sloppy track.

Blake seemed to have no luck picking horses, while Leslie’s technique, to “double down” on two different horses, worked better than Kyle’s “Texas hold ’em” style of bet (to bet $2 on every horse to win, which actually isn’t allowed. Also, I made up that name).

In the end it wasn’t about the money we won (or, ahem, lost, which was about $20 on the day), it was the fun of betting, watching the race, cheering our horses down the homestretch and seeing a photo finish. And also, our new, southern tradition of toasting our picks by giving a holler, “Woohoo!” followed by a swaller of beer. Mmmm, mmmm … ya’ll.

A photo finish between two horses (sadly, not one I had placed money on).

A photo finish between two horses (sadly, not one I had placed money on).

Drink of the Week: Bee’s Knees

I love that it’s finally (well, kinda, sorta) spring. It makes me think of fresh, yellow things like daffodils and lemons and honey. And being Friday, the mind wanders to gin.

It's got gin, lemon juice and honey syrup. Hello, spring in a glass!

It’s got gin, lemon juice and honey syrup. Hello, spring in a glass!

So it was serendipitous I came across a recipe for a Bee’s Knees cocktail, which combines the above ingredients (except, of course, the daffodils). I’d heard about this drink as a signature cocktail for weddings and such, but I would hate to be on the cleaning-up end after a Bee’s Knees-weighted reception. They. Are. Strong. The gin delivers, in other words. But it’s the honey syrup that really makes this spring sip sing. It’s sweet without being heavy and it goes so well with tangy lemon and aromatic gin. Believe me, it’s the bee’s knees.

Gin + honey syrup + lemon juice = splendid simplicity in a glass.

Gin + honey syrup + lemon juice = splendid simplicity in a glass.

Bee’s Knees

  • 2 oz gin (I used Tanqueray)
  • 3/4 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
  • 1 oz honey syrup*
  • Lemon wheel garnish

Combine ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake vigorously. Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Garnish with a lemon wheel.

Note: The original recipe called for less lemon juice and honey syrup; I opted to add a bit more as I found it too strong, so feel free to experiment with the ratios.

*Honey syrup: Combine equal parts honey and hot water in a mason jar. Put on the lid and shake until the honey is dissolved. Cool before using and store in the fridge.

Dive in, it's spring!

Dive in, it’s spring!

Our first and last visit to the Arkansas Alligator Farm

After visiting the Arkansas Alligator Farm & Petting Zoo in Hot Springs, Ark., I finally understand what those Guzoo Animal Farm protesters are all up in arms about.

Avery holds an alligator.

Avery holds an alligator. Note the creepy merman in the background.

With a name like Arkansas Alligator Farm & Petting Zoo, and the website’s promise visitors can “pet a real live alligator,” you kind of expect there will be lots of gators and lots of things to pet. In addition to a congregation of alligators, the attraction has sheep and goats (we were given six slices of whole wheat bread to feed them. The mammals, that is. The gators are hibernating this time of year). Normally I would steer clear of a place where staff “strive to put on a show by having many close calls” (presumably, when they are feeding the gators), but it’s amazing the things you do when you have kids.

The gators are all kept in different pens, depending on their age and size.

The gators are all kept in different pens, depending on their age.

What you don’t expect are the other exhibits that make this kind of roadside attraction totally deplorable: the three growling mountain lions inside a small pen, a lone wolf so lonesome it wagged its tail at my daughter, macaque monkeys that have chewed off most of their fur from stress and boredom, and ring-tailed lemurs inside small, barren cages. As my husband facetiously commented on the lemurs’ sad-looking life, “Well, at least they have a stars-and-stripes ball to play with.”

When the lemurs get bored they can play with a patriotic ball.

When the lemurs get bored they can play with a patriotic ball.

Oh, and to be completely sensational, there’s even a preserved “merman” (like a mermaid but a dude).

Behold the merman!

Behold the merman!

People come to see the alligators so it’s not clear why the owners feel they need to have all the other animals. It’s almost like once they started collecting exotic critters they just couldn’t stop. I’d rather not have my children see large carnivores snarling and pacing in small cages, or agitated primates in need of stimulation. If I want to see wolves, cougars and monkeys, as well as foxes and emus and loggerhead sea turtles, I’ll take the kids to an aquarium or zoo (real zoos get enough guff for keeping animals in captivity and are at least trying to provide natural habitats and enrichment programs).

Evidently, other people have been appalled after seeing these animals because a sign on the way out defends the place. It says the animals are loved and well cared for. While it’s true they are fed and given shelter, to me it appeared they are not happy with the prison-like arrangement.

A couple days after we visited Bennett asked, “When can we go back to the alligator farm?” How about never?