There’s a moment in every renovation when the room stops being a project and starts being a place. In this kitchen it happened somewhere between the first morning I sat at the island with coffee — made with actual potable water from the faucet and not from a large jug on the floor, for the first time in months — and realized I wasn’t going anywhere.
The stone
The countertops are grey and white granite with movement — the kind of stone that reads differently at seven in the morning than it does at noon. In a kitchen with three bay windows, that quality matters more than any trend cycle. Granite gets called dated occasionally, but in a Denver historic home renovation — original heart pine floors, restored Victorian millwork, a fireplace that came with the house — the question of whether a material is current misses the point entirely. The question is whether it belongs in this room — and this one did, completely.
I could sit in this kitchen and stare out the windows for hours.
The cabinets and island
The lower cabinets and island were finished in a stain and glaze that landed somewhere between driftwood and warm grey — neither painted nor natural, a tone that felt like it had always been in the home rather than chosen for it. The island is large enough for two people to cook together without negotiating space, which was never an accident. A kitchen where two people can actually work side by side is a different kind of room than one designed for a single cook.
The storage was designed with the same intention as the rest of the room — nothing wasted, nothing arbitrary. Six deep drawers on one side of the island, a trash and recycling pullout on the other with three drawers above it, and two pullouts on either side of the range. A kitchen that functions for two people who actually cook needs to think through every inch of storage before a single cabinet gets built.
The floors
Original heart pine — old-growth, narrow-grained, the kind of wood that takes stain differently than anything newer. I hand-stained every plank, then finished with a Bona high-traffic poly coat that would hold up to a kitchen that actually gets used. The warmth that came back is the kind you can’t buy in a new floor. Refinished, they anchored the whole room — dark enough to hold the drama of the black millwork and wallpaper, warm enough to keep the space from feeling cold.
The plant shelf
The bay windows needed something, and upper cabinets weren’t it. A shelf running across all three windows gave the plants somewhere to live — which in a home designed by someone with a background in landscape and organic horticulture was never optional. A room with that much light and no plants in it is a missed opportunity.
Here is what the kitchen looks like from the front entry.
There is a clear line of sight into the laundry/mudroom at the back of the home.
The front door is painted a vibrant teal and you’ll find this brilliant blue as an accent in all of the rooms on the first floor helping to create a cohesive colour scheme. The orange colour on the visible laundry room wall complements the salmon of the entry.
The built-in and the wallpaper
The original built-in painted black. The botanical wallpaper — black ground, copper metallic branches — was chosen to work with the copper pulls on the built-in. The metallic caught the light the way the pulls did, and the pattern committed to the room in the way Victorian interiors always did. Together they made a wall that stopped people when they walked in.
I have added copper pulls to this original built in pantry and the copper on the wallpaper really pulls this wall together.
We don’t often use the microwave, so putting it into the pantry was perfect!
The built in pantry also has a passthrough that goes to the walk-in pantry. The colourful cloth is hiding the square hole because I didn’t want you to be distracted by the mess that is hiding back there! Once the walk in is complete, I’ll open the peekaboo hole up and you’ll be able to see right through.
If you look closer at the details you’ll find many mentions of what makes us feel at home; the Canadian teapot in the pantry, the painting of my very first dog Jules who has long since passed, the cookbooks that we’ve collected over the years featuring adventurous cooking and materials that bring us joy.
The fireplace
The fireplace was never restored to working — it would have been a significant undertaking, and the room didn’t need it to function as a fireplace to do its job. The exposed brick uncovered during the renovation stayed exposed, the gold-framed mirror went above the mantel, and the fireplace became what it was always going to be in this room — presence, and the thing that tells you this home has been somewhere.
A huge part of the charm of this house is the original features, like this Charles Eastlake latch that is on our pantry doors. We have similar original hardware on our front door and Eastlake inspired fireplaces in other rooms of the home.
What it felt like
The cooktop in the island meant that cooking happened in the middle of the room, with the bay windows behind you. The butler’s pantry under the stairs held everything that would otherwise crowd the counters. The open shelves kept the room breathing.
I could sit at that island and watch the birds out the windows for hours. Two people could cook together without getting in each other’s way. The heart pine floors creaked in exactly the right places.
This kitchen didn’t announce itself. It settled in — like it had always been there.
Which, in a way, it had.
O-Ren and Mags say they like their new kitchen too!
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Studio Olio specializes in historic home renovation in Denver and remotely. If you’re planning a kitchen renovation and want to understand what’s possible — start with a complimentary discovery call.
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FAQ
Should you restore a non-working fireplace in a historic home renovation? It depends on the condition of the firebox, the flue, and how much of the original surround is intact. A full restoration to working order is a significant undertaking — masonry work, flue lining, potentially a new damper. If the fireplace is structurally sound and the details are worth preserving, keeping it as a presence in the room is a legitimate choice that costs far less and loses very little.
How do you finish original hardwood floors in a historic home? By hand if necessary, and with a finish that will hold up to real use. Original heart pine and old-growth hardwoods are dense and narrow-grained — they take stain differently than newer wood and reward the extra care. A high-traffic polyurethane finish protects the investment without obscuring the character of the wood.
What makes a historic kitchen renovation feel like it belongs? The details that don’t announce themselves. Floors that creak in the right places. Stone that moves with the light. Millwork that was already there. A kitchen that settles in rather than showing off.
