Can architecture be built from food? Between the fire that warms, the smells that spread, and the bodies that gather around the table, the apparent banality of cooking and eating reveals itself as a choreographed dance of spatial appropriation and belonging. These gestures organize routines, produce bonds, and transform the built environment into lived place. The kitchen—domestic, communal, or urban—thus ceases to be merely a functional space and affirms itself as a territory of encounter.
In recent years, food has taken on a renewed role within architecture, not simply as a program or typology, but as a shared spatial practice. Beyond restaurants or dining design, communal eating spaces are increasingly understood as environments where presence, ritual, and time intersect, allowing people to gather, stay, and coexist. In these settings, eating does not just happen within space; it actively shapes it, temporarily transforming ordinary, borrowed, or improvised environments into places of exchange.
This shift is visible across a wide range of built projects, installations, and community spaces that use shared meals as a way of bringing people together. Initiatives such as Fondo Supper Club frame dining as a social platform, using food to connect artists, designers, and local communities through conversation and collaboration. Similarly, sit.feast, presented during Milan Design Week 2024, approached the table as a spatial installation, one where sitting and eating together became the primary means of collectively producing space.
Outdoor terraces occupy a familiar threshold in cities around the world, operating as social rooms that sit between interior space and open air to host rituals of daily life. People meet to share a drink, watch the street's movement, or pause before returning to their routines. These places serve as cultural settings as much as commercial ones, revealing how hospitality and public life intersect to shape the city's character.
Climate influences these spaces more directly than almost any other design force, shaping how terraces function and how people inhabit them. Sun, wind, rain, and humidity guide decisions about orientation, shading, openness, and material selection. Each terrace becomes a negotiated space between human comfort and environmental pressure, and this negotiation can be read in every enclosure, surface, and spatial boundary.
The weather across the northern hemisphere is getting warmer, and with rising temperatures comes the urgent need for many of us to spend as much time outside as possible. While a variety of outdoor activities bring with them their own sense of accomplishment and relaxation, one in particular combines feelings of leisure, indulgence and community: outdoor cooking. But how did this tradition start? And what has it evolved into?
