After several days of hibernating sluggishly, even though it's no longer in the 90s, I took a long walk to an Italian restaurant in Bed-Stuy: Trattoria Macosa. They were serving a limited lunch menu, so I couldn't get the papardelle with oxtail ragu, but we shared a burrata with peaches and ripe tomatoes, arancino with a spicy sauce, and chicken livers sautéed and served on crostini. For dessert we had a Crenshaw melon granita. I had a Negroni with prosecco. It was just enough food and everything was good. The owner who waited on us was very talkative and friendly, and we got stories about a transformative experience of being waited on kindly in a diner. I'll gladly go back in the evening to try their pasta. It's good to have an Italian place in the greater neighborhood.
Rosemary brought me up to date on her good fortune in her work life, and is off to spend the weekend in a big house with a pool in New Jersey. I walked to and from the restaurant--45 minutes each way. A challenge for my sluggish bod, but I did it and the rain was not too bothersome with my umbrella. Now it's raining harder and humid, but I'm cozy in my armchair with my fan.
In news from Berkeley, one of the two peregrine falcons I watched grow up and fledge, the female chick Lindsay, was found dead on campus. Apparently the survival rate for falcons in their first year is not high. She might have been attacked by some hawks who have a nest in the area where she was found. She was beautiful:
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