The Art of Illusion: A Kitchen Larder Inspired by an Antique English Breakfront

When my husband and I began looking for a home, I had one non-negotiable: I wanted a kitchen I could design myself. We found exactly what I was looking for in a 1911 historic lodge home — a space with dark beamed ceilings, original woodwork, and the kind of bones that take a century to earn. A house that deserved something more considered than a traditional fitted kitchen. It deserved an unfitted kitchen. An English kitchen.

I love the English approach to kitchen design. The sense of history it brings, the feeling that a room has been collected over time rather than installed all at once. Furniture that looks like it arrived from somewhere else and simply stayed. That philosophy became the foundation for everything in this space — the painted island with its butcher block top, the antique glass-front cabinet, the farmhouse sink, the layered rugs underfoot.

But the larder was the piece I felt most strongly about from the beginning. I wanted a substantial cabinet that could conceal a full refrigerator and freezer — and I wanted it to look like it had absolutely nothing to do with either.

While researching antique pieces for the kitchen, I came across an image of an antique English breakfront that stopped me cold. I was actually considering buying it for kitchen storage — it had exactly the architectural presence and proportion I was looking for. But as I studied it, something shifted. Rather than acquiring the antique, I realized it could be the inspiration for something designed specifically for this space.

The proportions and details were all there in that photograph. The challenge was designing a piece that could accommodate a full refrigerator and freezer while delivering the utility modern storage demands — all without sacrificing an ounce of its period authenticity. I designed the larder to meet all of it. Constructed in rift sawn white oak with mahogany inlay, the upper doors conceal the refrigerator completely. The lower drawers are fully functional, save for those that create the illusion of a base — behind them lives the freezer.

The finish is where the piece truly came to life. After my EXTREMELY talented cabinetmaker completed his work, my painter and I together applied a faux finish by hand — building up patina around the knobs, varnishing and waxing - working the surface to simulate the kind of age that can't be rushed. The goal was simple: for the larder to look as though it had always been there.

The larder stands exactly as I envisioned, anchoring the old but new kitchen — a piece that feels collected, earned, and entirely of its time. The illusion holds completely.