Residents and guests said most of the people at the resort are white. (Nationally, there are organizations like the Black Naturists Association seeking to build community among nonwhite nudists.)
Some at Lake Como said being naked had helped them cultivate a more positive relationship with food.
Ms. McMullen, 60, a flight attendant, grew up in Massapequa Park, N.Y., and in her late 30s weighed 310 pounds. “I would go to the beach in this giant balloon of a bathing suit, and hear people laughing and whispering,” she said.
A friend recommended that she visit a nude beach in New Jersey. “I got the nerve to get in my car and go, and for the first time, no one was looking at me. No one was judging. I knew right then that this was for me.”
Ms. McMullen has since lost 185 pounds, but considers that less important. All it took to feel good about her appearance, she said, was taking her clothes off.
She spoke about being naked and being a cook as if they were one and the same, as she made carnitas in her electric pressure cooker. Her husband, Mr. McMullen, 63, who is retired from the plumbing business, strummed his guitar.
“I feel freer and more imaginative when I am nude while cooking,” said Mr. Clark, standing over his stove, tossing clams into garlic broth and boiling angel-hair pasta. A sign above his head read, “It’s naked o’clock somewhere.”
He deftly maneuvered around the kitchen, nearly grazing his belly with a pot of hot water while draining the pasta, wearing only oven mitts. “I’m fine!” he insisted.
Around 5 p.m., guests arrived, each dutifully carrying a towel — though some chairs already had towels draped over them, in case anyone had forgotten. They ate at a table on the deck, paper napkins slung over their thighs, slurping strands of pasta as the sun slid from the sky and Jimmy Buffett crooned from a speaker.
“I used to hate dinner parties,” said Ms. McMullen, who was in attendance. “They were always pretentious. There was all this small talk I didn’t get. Now I get to be myself. I don’t have to hide it when I don’t understand someone.”
That ease, they say, extends to eating out. At the Bare Buns Cafe, government health rules require that the staff be clothed, but most customers dine in the nude.
© Jason Henry for The New York Times For his dinner party, Mr. Clark cooked clams and mussels with angel-hair pasta, deftly maneuvering around the kitchen to avoid being clipped by a hot pot.
Being a nudist invites questions: Is it the same as swinging? Is it exhibitionist? Predatory? (No, no and no.) What if it’s cold outside?
“The philosophy is, nude when possible, clothed when practical,” Ms. McMullen said.
For all their enthusiasm about eating, cooking can pose some challenges. Ms. McMullen has learned to take a big step back when taking food out of the oven, to avoid being clipped by a hot rack. Her husband mostly refrains from frying, and wears an apron when he does. When grilling, he keeps a good distance from the flame.
Nancy Rehling, a retired restaurant owner who lives at Lake Como, said she wears a T-shirt when she cooks, to combat splatter. “I have scars all over my tummy and the top of my boobs from cooking,” she said — incidents involving fried fish, boiled-over soups and melted cheese, which “really sticks and keeps burning.”
But several cooks pointed out that safety and hygiene concerns are inevitable in any cooking. Table manners are no different whether someone is clothed or not. And a nudist is equally capable of preparing bacon, or any other food, as a cook in a full-length outfit.
“It’s not about the bacon,” Ms. McMullen said. “It’s about the freedom.”
This content was originally published here.