The kitchen is the heart of a home; at least, that is what I think. Meals are prepared in kitchens, and families gather there. It’s where life lived often assumes a rhythm. But in addition to these, it’s what so many long for: a space filled with a certain calm, one that connects them to the outside world. It’s also a true retreat from the busyness of modern life. That is where biophilic kitchen design comes in. Biophilic design isn’t just about adding a few plants here and there. It’s about making all people who inhabit a certain space feel an innate connection to nature.
And if it’s not about aesthetics, then what is it about? Well, kitchen biophilia engages all five senses—surely a factor in kitchen design that goes well beyond aesthetics.
Nature’s Materials: The Natural Kitchen Natural materials are a key component of biophilic kitchen design. These materials infuse the space with warmth and character. They draw us in, inviting us to touch, to appreciate their well-worn contours and surfaces. I have always favored reclaimed wood for kitchen cabinetry. Its character is hard to top, but what’s even better is the story it’s able to tell. In my experience, wherever we have used reclaimed wood in a biophilic kitchen, people have pointed out how beautiful it is. “What kind of wood is that?” they ask. They want to know its story.
In one project, we sourced stone from a local quarry to use for kitchen countertops. The look of the stone, its warm colors, perfectly matched the kitchen’s overall aesthetic.
In my own kitchen, I chose bamboo and terracotta for the accents and the tiles. Bamboo is light, and it feels almost like a continuation of the airiness of the space. The terracotta, both as tiles and in the forms it takes in my kitchen, helps bring a solidity and warmness into the space; it feels much more like an earthy-aura kitchen than one with a chilly, modernist vibe. So I feel an instant connection to the outdoors, even before I’ve had a chance to open a window. Integrating Plants into Your Kitchen Decor When people think of biophilia, plants are usually the first thing that comes to mind.
And for good reason—plants seamlessly bring nature right into our homes. In the kitchen, plants serve not only as comfy green decor but also as practical, edible elements. When preparing this writing, I considered integrating built-in planters along with herbs into my kitchen design.
I once had a client who wanted their kitchen to feel like a garden oasis, so we built a living wall—a vertical garden filled with herbs, succulents, and some trailing vines that turned the space into something lush and vibrant. You could have called it a “kitchen sink” garden, or maybe an “interior herbivore haven.” To get the most from “oasis” vibes, we took advantage of a big window next to the wall, which allows all the plants in the setup to get direct, natural light. And in return, the wall-purposed biowall positively contributes to the air quality in the kitchen—plant it right, and they say you can kind of sink your nose into the wall and catch a whiff of something fresh clean.
Using Water as a Design Element Biophilic design often emphasizes natural elements such as plants or sunlight, but water is right up there with them; it has very similar calming effects. In my past life as an interior designer, I put water in a lot of places—like the indoor fountain by the window in one of my kitchens. The very gentle sound of water flowing added an energy that kitchen seemed to lack before I put it in. And you know what? We had a plumbed fountain. It wasn’t a trick (we don’t need a cafe with spaces that resemble Starbucks, folks), and it wasn’t a look that we feigned in order to try and sell something to someone.
There are many ways to achieve a similar effect, though, even if a plumbed fountain isn’t one of them.
Sensory Design in the Kitchen Biophilic design is about more than just visual appeal; it’s about creating a space that engages all of our senses. This is especially important in the kitchen, where acoustics, materials, and even aromas play a big part in how we experience the space. And what kind of experience should the kitchen be providing? From my perspective, it should be a sensory retreat. A sanctuary of sensory delight, engagement, and relaxation. Natural materials like wood, stone, and plant life invite a cozy, tactile experience within the kitchen. And when it comes to sound, the absence of harsh, synthetic noises is absolutely key.
I remember going to a house that had cork flooring in the kitchen. It was sustainably sourced, but that wasn’t why I enjoyed it. The feel of it was so pleasant and almost surprising. I keep saying the experience of it was quiet, but I think what I mean is that it was softly intimate. You could tell it had a low level of noise to vibrate to, as if the “design details” encouraged that in the way a musical score dictates a certain rhythm. Everything just seemed to flow better from one moment to the next in the house with the cork kitchen flooring.
Color Schemes in Natural Hues One of the pleasures of biophilic design is working with natural colors. For kitchens in my projects, I have always leaned toward “earth tone” palettes—soft greens, warm browns, muted golds, and deep blues. These hues are grounding, soothing, and distinctly nature-connected. There’s a reason we’re calmed by these colors; they’re the colors of the sky, the forest, and the earth. One client I worked with specifically loved the ocean. In her kitchen, we used deep navy, soft seafoam, and sandy beige. It’s powerful in its subtlety; the palette delivers the calm feeling you get when “hearing” waves in the natural world.
In my personal kitchen, I have chosen tones of olive green and soft clay. The green here is not just a superficial coloring but one that resonates with a sense of vitality and freshness. To this, the Kitchen Layout of Biophilia Past adds tones of clay. Again, this isn’t just to create some warm visual appeal. Using clay here is more about making a connection to the earth. In fact, I think both of these colors together can create a balance that feels at once alive and serene. And in my kitchen, I think this serves genuinely functional purposes.
After all, a kitchen ought to be a space where one can feel relaxed and not overly stimulated—except when cooking, of course!
There was a project where the clients wanted their kitchen to resemble a garden. So we designed this big, sliding glass door that opens to a small, kind of enclosed, outdoor space. The homeowners now have a direct path to their personal patch of nature, with a seemingly endless view over their plant life, every time they walk through the threshold from indoor to outdoor kitchen. And, actually, that’s the part of biophilic design that I like the best—the idea that designs can be optimized to allow different sensory experiences. Whether it’s visually, aurally, or olfactorily, you should experience nature while you’re in your kitchen.
Well, if you’re in one that’s been designed by DCS, anyway.
If you don’t have a substantial garden or outdoor area to connect to, there are many inventive ways to bring the sensation of the outdoors inside. For instance, open shelving with greenery can create an illusion of a verdant kitchen. If that kitchen were to pulse with light, it might be because the open shelving plants are letting it in. What if the kitchen were to ripple with smooth expanses of light and dark, echoing the peaks and valleys of a wave? That might happen if the kitchen were to feature shiny stone or glass in a way that allows these materials to catch and reflect light.
Either way, the appearance of a plant in the kitchen or the clever inclusion of light could go a long way toward making the space feel more connected to the park outside.
I once collaborated with a family that had a heightened level of concern regarding air quality due to allergy issues. They had long been affected by the condition. So, when it came time for us to select wall paints and wood finishes, for instance, we made the very deliberate choice of materials that were safe, healthy, and—critically—free of volatile organic compounds (VOCs). We then took the idea of air quality a step further and filled the kitchen with plants. Indeed, we selected a variety of plants that are known not only for their beauty but also for their air-purifying abilities.
The transformation was immediate and apparent.
Biophilic design highlights a return to nature. Yet, in the kitchen, it’s also important to consider how modern technology fits into the overall aesthetic. Balance is key. We may incorporate the latest, most convenient appliances, but they should merge subtly and effortlessly into the seamless design of the room. I often use them in a way such that they barely exist—they’re there, but they’re not glaringly obvious. My go-to modern kitchen appliances are those that are stainless steel or matte black. Either of those finishes would complement the fantastic natural stone and wood that would be in any truly biophilic kitchen.
One kitchen that I designed uses concealed cabinetry to store smaller appliances, keeping clear what’s necessary for cooking and baking. As I ponder the kitchen’s overall beauty, I think of the natural materials that are front and center, such as the strikingly beautiful countertop. I am in awe of the natural stone, none of which is cut from the same cloth, that gives this home the distinct character that each room possesses. Speaking of smart technology, can you imagine a cooking space that has even more high-tech features than this one? Biophilic design might be seen as a kitchen that employs aesthetics and natural materials to connect inhabitants to nature.
But it can also enhance kitchens and cooking spaces using the latest technology.
My appreciation for biophilic design runs deep. I know it is more than a passing trend or aesthetic choice. Biophilic design is a philosophy that can change how we interact with our spaces. Because kitchens are such central hubs in our homes, they have the potential to nourish us in ways that go beyond food. A biophilic kitchen would not only be a beautiful room; it would be a space alive with the potential to connect us, heal us, and make us whole.
A kitchen I once worked on for a client was intended to reflect not just a single season but all four, changing throughout the year. I can still picture the large, floor-to-ceiling windows we installed in the eastern wall of that kitchen, framing the view of the client’s garden. They were installed so that when you first walked into the kitchen, it felt like you were in the deepest part of the garden, with plants and flowers in every direction. The kitchen itself was designed with a neutral, almost drab palette, but that only made the colors of the garden pop, the space serving as a “disappearing act” for the kitchen.
My client originally requested an autumn palette for the kitchen.
In my kitchen, I like to integrate the change of seasons into my decor. I replace small items or add new ones—perhaps introducing more color or warmth in the winter. In the summer, I might add more of a casual green touch, using a few faux plants for the “herb shelf.” It’s a pretty simple, low-maintenance arrangement that feels appropriate for summer.
The Nature of Emotion
Biophilic design is powerful not just aesthetically but also emotionally. A kitchen that exemplifies biophilic design can quiet and enliven the mind, making it almost meditative to sit or stand in. When I touch the rich wood of my kitchen island or the smooth granite of the adjacent countertops, my fingers translate what my eyes perceive: that I am in a space replete with natural materials, a crucial aspect of biophilic design.
I recall consulting with a client who said that since they had restructured their kitchen with biophilic elements, they had found themselves in that space more, not just to prepare meals but to find relaxation, read, and even meditate. The room had transformed from merely a functional space to a sanctum—a refuge where they could reconnect with nature and, as a result, with themselves.
To me, biophilic kitchen design has one overarching aim—one that transcends the mere aesthetics and practicality of the spaces that humans occupy. It is about making direct connections to nature in kitchen interiors, so that the individuals inhabiting them might enjoy experiences like those they would have if they were in a natural environment. And while this can certainly be accomplished in beautiful and functional ways, it becomes most apparent in the kitchen when striving for that profound, resonant bond with nature.
Promoting Sustainable Living through Biophilic Kitchens
Biophilic interior design is closely tied to sustainability. Indeed, it is one of the aspects of biophilic design that most closely aligns with kitchen design and that I prefer to cite when asked about kitchen design’s ties to sustainability. When I think of kitchens designed biophilically, I often picture them made with sustainable materials and practices. They are, for instance, not probably very commonly made with PVC; to make the kitchen itself efficient, many designers choose appliances that are Energy Star-rated; and so on. Choices like these that I see in kitchens largely tied in to kitchen design’s future as a biophilic interior.
Often, sustainability in the kitchen begins with picking the right materials. When obtained through responsible means, natural materials, like wood, stone, and clay, greatly reduce environmental impacts relative to synthetic options. But it doesn’t stop there; you need to choose materials that will stand the test of time. I’ve often told my clients that if they really want to make their kitchens more sustainable, they should invest in high-quality materials that don’t just last longer than most of us tend to expect but also look better for a longer period of time.
One initiative I worked on that sticks in my mind was procuring locally made clay tiles for a kitchen backsplash. The tiles had this wonderful, earthy quality that fit perfectly with the overall design—but what made them special was that an artisan in our area had made them using natural, sustainable practices. Every time I look at those tiles, I think about how biophilic design isn’t just about bringing nature inside. It’s also about supporting practices that are in harmony with nature.
Sustainability is about more than just the materials we use. It’s also about the systems we put in place. And when it comes to kitchens, that means systems for handling waste. The composting kind, of course, which is now legal and doable in most places. And recycling, which is doable and legal in most places, too. It may not be the kind of architecture you can boast about at a cocktail party, but if your kitchen compost bin is handsome and your cabinetry recycling-friendly, you’ve made a green choice.
In my kitchen, I have focused on using energy-efficient devices. I have also installed a water filtration system, which has significantly reduced my use of bottled water. Both of these changes, though seemingly small, are steps in the direction of “biophilic design,” which, according to the authors, “reinforces the principles of living in harmony with one’s environment.” Another principle of biophilic design, sustainability, is also clearly relevant here. After all, to what end would my kitchen changes serve if they weren’t also steps toward a more sustainable habitat?
Biophilic kitchens require an attention to detail that might be missing in more conventional cooking spaces. They are places where the natural world and human-made environments converge: where the soft curves of a river rock meet the hard lines of a granite countertop, where wood cabinetry embraces the warm glow of fire that brings a hearth to life, and where a person breaths in the savannah-like scent of dry grass from a hand-woven basket fringe, while that same person stands at the kitchen island preparing a meal.
Biophilic design continually inspires me, especially when it comes to the message that craftsmanship conveys. Craftsmanship brings spaces to life, and that presence is something you can’t replicate with mass-produced items. Think of biophilic kitchens: with hand-cast ceramic sinks, hand-carved wooden countertops, and handmade tiles, the presence of fine craftsmanship in such spaces adds incredible layers of texture, resonance, and meaning to both the design and the human experience.
I once worked with a community woodworker to design and build custom cabinetry for a kitchen. The wood had come from a forest just down the road, sustainably managed and timbered so as to preserve the integrity of the ecosystem. The cabinetry there was all but unequalled, since it was made by a local hand. The wood made its own statements, and the cabinet’s artisan details, while undoubtedly showcasing the craftsman’s skill, were such things as any person could feel at home with—filling the space between the cabinets and the walls with far more personality than anything even with a sub-zero refrigerator on the other side of it could.
In a biophilic kitchen, people prepare food and connect with their surroundings. They are profoundly aware of every inch, every detail, that went into the kitchen’s creation. They appreciate the beauty, not just of the design, but of the craftsmanship that made it all come together. This is storytelling at its finest. Each kitchen element can tell a story, be it about the artisan who crafted it, the material from which it is made, or the creative journey that led from raw material to kitchen staple.
Promoting Awareness Through Design One of the most strikingly profound benefits of biophilic interior design is its capacity—in combination with a few other elements we will discuss—to promote a feeling of awareness and mindfulness. In a kitchen, biophilic design can be a mechanism and environment that allows someone to break out of the fast-paced routine of constantly feeling like one is moving from task to task and helps one sink into the meditative act of being present and alive in the moment. Increasingly, mindfulness is seen as a huge part of the benefits of these environments for a number of reasons that we’ll discuss next week, but for me, the main reason is as simple as it sounds: the more “alive” one feels in a space, the more present and aware one tends to be.
Experiencing natural wood, fresh air, and flowing water encourages a mindful approach to cooking. My kitchen rituals help keep me connected to this space and to nature. Every morning, I open the windows to let in fresh air and listen to the birds while I prepare breakfast. I also find that a kitchen designed with biophilic principles invites mindfulness. And when I feel more connected to the kitchen, I also feel more connected to the act of cooking.
You observe how the light transforms as the day advances, how the flora flourishes and changes with the seasons, and how natural elements exhibit the beauty of aging over time. One client told me that since we redesigned her kitchen with biophilic elements, she has developed a deeper appreciation for the cooking process. She said that she often spends a lot of time in the kitchen, but it’s not just that; she also enjoys the time she spends in there far more than she did before. She still hasn’t found the most efficient way to tear through her book of recipes, but she doesn’t mind that at all.
“Everything is more meditative,” she said. “There’s more detail in the way I approach the smells, sounds, and textures of what I’m using. And by the way, the kitchen is my favorite room in our house now.”
Biophilic design embodies the kitchen’s true purpose in our lives: forming spaces that ever so seamlessly combine our base needs for the physical with the emotional and spiritual. The biophilic kitchen embraces slowness; therein lies the kitchen’s great opportunity. It allows us to reflect during the moments we spend cooking, to be present in the sensory world of food. And in those very same moments, we’re afforded a unique chance to connect not just with ourselves and our loved ones but with the very natural world we inhabit.
Moreover, a kitchen is not just for cooking; it is a space within the home where families gather to share good food, good conversation, and good lives. At least, that is the aspiration. Kitchens and their potential have been a recurring theme in this biophilia series because, in my opinion, they embody the truest potential for biophilic transformation. Choices made in the biophilic kitchen can have huge ripple effects that touch on both the good life and the good world.
An aesthetically pleasing biophilic kitchen may be for some the height of what such a design can achieve. But for me, the kitchen has to be more than just an attractive living space. It has to be a room suffused with the same natural qualities we associate with other biophilic spaces—like living rooms, bedrooms, and even bathrooms—that comfort us, body and soul, in our domestic lives. The kitchen is a room that should be, and is capable of being, a biophilic kitchen whether it happens to be model-size or not.
