As catering consultants, we’re always looking at trends (although not necessarily jumping on board) and what’s next on the horizon. Although we wouldn’t recommend designing to trends – we stand firmly behind sustainable design, and design that lasts – Slow Space Design is one movement we’ve noticed quietly gaining traction.
My interest started when I read Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki.
This book slowed everything down with a layered story of memory and time, or a “time-being” as Ozeki calls it: A person who exists only within time.
It even began my journey into Japanese cuisine and design… there’s something about the savouring of small, perfectly prepared dishes eaten in a simple (Kanso 簡素) and zen setting that makes you want the experience to stretch on forever. That longing is deeply tied to Slow Space Design.
Most restaurants are fast.
Everything we design is about speeding up efficiency, reducing queue times, turning tables quickly, moving as many people through the door as possible.
But with biophilic design rising to the top of trends (a welcome trend. Who could argue against getting closer to nature?) we’re seeing restaurants and cafés evolve from quick pit stops to places of calm.
There’s more demand for comfort seating, thoughtful flow, and spaces that allow people to relax the moment they walk in. Even McDonald’s has shed plastic for timber… proof that the world is shifting.
But what if we went a step further?
That’s where Slow Space Design comes in.
What is Slow Space Design?
Slow Space Design encourages us to create restaurants that flow with the rhythms of real life – not the frantic pace of technology.
It’s about designing spaces that nurture patience.
Sanctuaries of pause.
I recommend visiting SlowSpace.org, where the founders of The Slow Space Movement write about the philosophy and ethics behind the movement.
To help explain the concept, here are just a few ways this would apply in a restaurant setting:
Temporal Awareness
Design that acknowledges the passage of time
- Spaces that shift naturally with the changing light
- Materials that age and patina gracefully
- Experiences that unfold at a human pace, not a technological one
Sensory Presence
Design that awakens and soothes the senses
- Touch: tectures that invite the hand – wood, stone, fabric
- Sound: soft, layered background sounds – murmuring voices, the sharpening of a knife
- Smell: aromas of food, plants, fresh materials
Breathing Space (Ma 間 )
Design that embraces emptiness, pauses, and rhythm.
- Minimalist layouts
- Stillness between busier zones
- Flowing routes that encourage guests to meander
Natural Connection (Biophilic Design)
Design that connects diners back to the living world
- Plants, natural finishes
- Indoor-outdoor flow where possible
- Seasonal thinking: lighting, menus, moods
Craft and Human Trace
Design that celebrates the human hand and imperfection.
- Visible kitchens — the “heartbeat” of the restaurant.
- Natural, imperfect surfaces (hand-thrown ceramics, aged wood).
- Honest storytelling: about ingredients, spaces, people.
Emotional Continuity
Design that fosters emotional memory and belonging.
- Spaces that feel familiar over time, not hyper-trendy or disposable.
- Layouts that encourage repeat rituals and social connection.
- A spirit of care that is felt, not just seen.
Think Noma in Copenhagen. An open kitchen without pretension, with a relaxed storytelling environment woven into a natural finish setting.
Or Netflix’s A Blank Menu for You. Every dish cooked delicately, softly, slowly. With interesting conversation about the food provenance and memory throughout the meal.
Why Does It Matter Now?
How many times do we see the word “burnout” popping up on our LinkedIn feeds and Instagram reel?
It’s no longer just an individual feeling, it’s a shared cultural reality. We move fast because we have to what with juggling work, kids, and social life.
Before restaurants, before even formal kitchens, eating was slow because life itself was slow. We gathered around fired for cooking, survival, and connection.
The slow eating movement today (savouring flavours and embracing the pace of the meal) isn’t new. It’s an echo of something ancient. Slow Space Design taps into this ancient memory and calls for spaces where food isn’t just consumed, but experienced.
We need to stop and breathe.
Slow Space Design invites people to stay. To breathe. To reconnect. Maybe that’s why sensory eating is rising alongside it – a hunger to be fully present.
Imagine a restaurant where the kitchen is the beating heart where guests gather around the preparation and cooking of the food (not hurried or spectacle) but as an open-hearted exchange.
Where chefs are not just executing orders, but storytellers. Sharing the provenance of their ingredients and their memories.
Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself… and this is just one concept of many that embrace Slow Space Design… but maybe that’s the point. To remember that eating is more than a transaction, and it’s time to design spaces that honour that.
“Slow Design encourages users to become active participants in the design process, embracing ideas of conviviality and exchange to foster social accountability and enhance communities.”
— Strauss & Fuad-Luke
Do We Have Time For It?
The pace we live at, the demands of our time, and the expectations for efficiency don’t exactly make time for long, lingering breaks.
This may be enough though, maybe just being interested in Slow Space Design makes us better designers. More present, more thoughtful, more food-focused. And that’s exactly where good design should begin.
And if anyone out there is dreaming about making it happen as a unique and intentional concept, you know who to call to help bring it to life!
Written by Giorgia Lacey-Colley @giorgia_at_cooper8