Flatter: A restaurant closes, and racing loses a little treasure

Scratches and changes this week at Gulfstream Park offered one name that was worse to see than the free bingo square vanishing from a Pick 5 wager.

Christine Lee’s has closed.

Even for a visitor like me who got to that part of the country but once a year for the Pegasus or the Florida Derby, the Chinese restaurant which was just a losing ticket’s throw from the paddock entrance was a must stop. A little shrimp scampi with the pink-garlic cream sauce and a glass of chardonnay over the next day’s past performances. Alas, no more.

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Michael Mayo’s Facebook page Let’s Eat, South Florida broke the doleful news Wednesday. It felt as abrupt as last winter’s bombshell that The Stronach Group wanted to decouple its racing and slot-machine licenses at Gulfstream. Unfortunately, the state legislature cannot carve out a rescue for this one.

It was a family business that moved south for more than just a winter after Christine Lee herself was mugged in a New Jersey parking lot. Fifty-five years later, Mayo said her restaurant could not survive Gulfstream cutting its summer schedule to three days a week. A one-day shutdown after a health-department inspection did not help, either.

Not quite on a par with Hialeah’s pink flamingos, Christine Lee’s was part of the fabric of Gulfstream Park. Its history there was a microcosm of the ups and downs of the track. In 2007 it was moved from a Miami Beach strip mall into the third floor of the current clubhouse overlooking the finish line. It was nearly seven years ago when it became a cornerstone in the shopping center that surrounds the track.

Therein lies the symbolism. The Village at Gulfstream Park opened 15 years ago where there used to be racetrack parking. The terra cotta and pastel hues to match the new clubhouse were as good a fit for the self-proclaimed sun-and-fun capital of the world as year-round linen wear, phony residential ponds and slow-driving retirees.

One problem. There was not much in it for the horseplayer. To this day the slot-machine casino, simulcast center and upstairs restaurant occupy prime space that used to be so welcoming to bettors craving a clear view of their horses from the revered, old grandstand.

At least Christine Lee’s offered sanctuary. Until now.

This is not the big news that decoupling could have been or may yet be. It is, nevertheless, another sign of erosion.

Imagine Saratoga without Siro’s. Del Mar without Brigantine’s, Churchill Downs without Wagner’s. Worse yet, Jimmy D’s without Arlington Park. One wonders how King Umberto is doing with Belmont Park out of commission during construction.

Restaurants and bars are ephemeral by nature. Christine Lee’s passing in and of itself is not a harbinger, Belinda Stronach’s anathema of “a dense, urban setting” notwithstanding. But there is a chicken-and-egg parallel here.

If horses still were racing five days a week, there might be more foot traffic around the track, and the storefronts in the village would not be so empty, and Christine Lee’s might be selling more dumplings and spring rolls, and it would attract loyal customers who might not be racing fans until they take a peek inside the track next door where horses happened to be running Wednesday through Sunday.

Racing is far more than a contest to see who crosses the finish line first or how much we may cash on any given ticket. It is the foundation for a multifaceted community that spans agriculture and industry and the populace they attract. The extinction of a restaurant across the sidewalk from a racetrack will not by itself bring down the bulwark, but it is like pulling on a loose thread.

Handle totals tell us we do not think so much about Gulfstream Park between April and November. It and pretty much the whole state turn into a schvitz bath in the summer. Save for a Rainbow 6 jackpot every few Sundays, Gulfstream Park can be as out of mind during Daylight Saving Time as overcoats, snow tires and Christmas ornaments.

If nothing else, the shuttering of Christine Lee’s should remind us that the push for decoupling will be renewed soon enough. Almost all the frontline players who led the successful fight against it this year warn that there will be a doubling of the effort next year. It was only last month when The Stronach Group filed a lawsuit against the state government as it tries to extract itself from its obligation to race horses in exchange for the right to run its slot machines.

A wiser version of this column would unlock the secrets to making racing and its ancillary businesses the successes they used to be. Unfortunately, my time machine and blank check got lost a move or two ago.

Maybe the moral to this story is that we should not take any of what we cherish in this sport for granted. Just this decade we have lost Calder, Arlington, Golden Gate and all the other Northern California tracks. We heard this spring that Emerald Downs could be on the ropes. Pimlico has been leveled with cautious optimism of its being rebuilt even as nearby Laurel Park has an expiration date of 2027. When Belmont Park reopens next fall, the countdown clock will strike zero at Aqueduct.

Press boxes at racetracks used to have some real characters in them, and they were not limited to the aging writers who used to populate the media pews. Two things they all had were betting windows and free meals. The advent of advanced-deposit wagering and apps did away with one, and the attrition of actual humans to cover the races lessened the need for the other.

That reminds me of Pedro. He served the food and beer and good cheer to the media working the New York Racing Association tracks. Not so many years ago when I had winter assignments at Aqueduct, the big press box might have three people there. And that was on a busy day.

As the media population decreased, Pedro was reassigned. My usual routine back then was to do whatever radio interviews I needed to do after the feature race and then go downstairs to the second-floor bar during the finale before I caught the A train back home to Manhattan.

Inevitably, Pedro would come in, give me a big smile and joke about getting me a Miller Lite. Inevitably, that is, until he retired and went unreplaced.

Pedro and Christine Lee’s seem like little symbolic things. Until we miss them.

Ron Flatter’s column appears Friday mornings at Horse Racing Nation. Comments below and at RonFlatterRacingPod@gmail.com are welcomed, encouraged and may be used in the feedback segment of the Ron Flatter Racing Pod, which also is posted every Friday.