Cooking like Claire…

I like to experiment in the kitchen, utilizing whatever odds and ends I can scrounge; cooking whatever must be used up and not wasted. For instance, because our fig and apple trees are loaded with fruit, I am at the moment simmering sliced onions, apples, figs, and cubed ham to which I will add a few handfuls of wild rice. Spiciness is assured by shreds of prepared ginger and small chili peppers; the concoction will be a side dish for turkey cutlets sautéed in lemon juice that Francesco will prepare whenever I can lasso him into the house.

As I cook these days I often think of our two Todi friends, Claire Parent and Sally Inkin, either of who could win a world-class culinary cook-off, hands down. (I thought of including the latter in the title, something like ‘simmering with Sally’ but thought it sounded too risqué.) Not only is each of these women a superb chef, but both share a sense of adventure and experimentation in the kitchen - and they have the advantage of using fresh produce from their extensive gardens.

My family will immediately think I write of my mother, whose name was Claire. She was passionate about cuisine, collected recipes, and managed to amass a lifetime’s worth of cookbooks. She was taught to cook by her ‘Ohio Dutch’ grandmother and sometimes used German terminology in the kitchen. Many of her dishes hinted of Teutonic origin with sauerkraut, cabbage, sausage, and potatoes predominating. (My personal favorite was ‘wilted greens’, for which, in early spring, we gathered oodles of tender dandelion shoots that mom reduced in a sauce of bacon grease, vinegar, and cream. The greens were served piping hot with crispy bacon strips and boiled spring potatoes.)

But – sorry mother dear - I really am thinking of Claire Parent, who along with her husband Paul, treated us to fabulous dinners in their wonderfully renovated Todi home, and of Sally Inkin who likewise hosted us many a time with her husband John at their little farm property near Montecchio.

Claire’s kitchen is a marvel of modern stainless steel cabinets and fittings, more like a fancy restaurant kitchen than one in a private home. There is an enormous vented range, several eye-level baking ovens, huge refrigerators, and all sorts of cooking gizmos. But a Claire Parent meal doesn’t depend on those; she has the knack of blending flavors and cooking everything to perfection.

Sally cooks in a rustic country kitchen where a wood stove is employed as often as the gas range. She can whip up the finest pastry dough I’ve ever eaten, for fruit pies or to top savory casseroles, and never fails to awe guests by serving something completely unusual but delicious; I recall a dessert of delicately fried elderberry flowers sprinkled with a fine layer of confectioners sugar.

Francesco and I have two kitchens to renovate and equip. One will be our ‘Giverny’ effort, modeled on the one in Monet’s famous house north of Paris – painted in cooling blue and celadon green – while the other will be cheerier yellow, with three tall windows and a glass-paned door admitting lots of sun and air. Both rooms will have handmade tomette floor tiles in deep rust terra cotta color, and each will be equipped with antique wood stoves as well as regular gas ranges.

We found and bought a wonderful 1930s enameled stove for the Giverny creation and are still hunting for something similar for the yellow kitchen. And we recently bought and installed a new Beko double-oven gas cooker. We are delighted with it as it is proving to be a wonderful stove, and is also about as handsome as an appliance can be. Yet to arrive is my recent rather extravagant birthday gift to Francesco: a black enamel and brass-fitted Fratelli Onofri range, handmade in Italy. If we manage to cook up to the level of these fancy new stoves, we might even be able to invite Claire and Sally to dinner.