As many of you have already heard on our podcast or seen in the Instagram photo below, we recently completed the biggest renovation we’ve ever taken on: a full kitchen overhaul. It was long, often fun, and—much like planning a wedding—we’re thrilled with the outcome and relieved to have it finished. (Unlike a wedding, there was not nearly enough cake involved.)
After learning from our living room and dining room makeovers (which we documented in our second book), we decided to finish this renovation before sharing it publicly. Skipping the real-time blogging pressure allowed us to focus on creating the best result for our family rather than chasing content or stressing about a dramatic reveal day. It also gave us time to live with the space and make small and meaningful adjustments instead of rushing photos while dust was still settling.
Now that we’ve lived in the new layout for a while and it feels finished (although no room is ever truly done—Sherry still rearranges the shelves every few weeks), we want to walk through why we changed the floor plan and how we arrived at the final design. We have a ton of photos and lessons learned to share, and we plan to cover the project across a handful of posts so you’re not overwhelmed. For now, we’ll start with the planning and layout decisions that shaped the whole renovation.
To remind you, here’s what the kitchen looked like before:
Our initial “Phase 1” changes—removing some upper cabinets, painting trim and paneling, updating lighting, adding open shelves, painting the upper cabinets white, staining the lowers, resurfacing laminate counters with concrete, and replacing appliances when our dishwasher quit—definitely improved the kitchen. But they didn’t solve several important functional problems.
Originally, a kitchen designer called it “a perfectly nice, single chef kitchen.” Since we rarely cooked together at first, we considered keeping the layout and simply updating finishes. But as our family grew, we needed space for multiple people to use the kitchen at once—packing lunches while someone made breakfast, baking with our daughter, and so on. The space began to feel cramped and underutilized.
Our frustration wasn’t just about size; it was also how closed off the kitchen felt. A long peninsula blocked the cook from the dining table and made the trips between stove, sink, and table inefficient. During meals we frequently shuffled back and forth while juggling requests from the kids, and that extra walking was exhausting.
Worse, the prep area felt miles away from the living room where the kids usually were during dinner. A wall blocked sight lines and conversation, so whoever handled dishes felt isolated while the rest of the family relaxed in the living room. That wall had to go.
We also lacked a practical drop zone for shoes, coats, and backpacks. Since the garage door opens straight into the kitchen, we used the foyer closet for coats and a basket under the kitchen desk for shoes. That setup quickly became messy: shoes spilled out, bags ended up on counters or chairs, and the floor between the door and the basket was constantly filthy from tracked-in dirt.
When reconfiguring the room, our priorities were clear: create a hidden but effective mudroom near the entry, improve the flow between prep and dining, and open sight lines to the living room. At one point we considered adding a full wall to carve out a dedicated mudroom and shift the kitchen closer to the living room, but that option introduced appliance placement problems, reduced natural light by taking a window, and left an island too small for all four of us.
Instead, we adopted a hidden mudroom cabinet idea we’d seen while working on the book: floor-to-ceiling cabinets next to the door that serve as lockers. Closed, they blend seamlessly with the kitchen; open, they reveal cubbies for each family member with hooks, shelves, and baskets.
Building that mudroom function into cabinetry gave us a new floor plan that solved the drop-zone problem while preserving ample space for appliances and a large island seating all four of us. We could also widen the doorway to the dining room and open the kitchen to the living room. But expanding the kitchen made a standard eight-foot island look too small.
Most natural stone slabs are eight feet long, so larger islands often require a seam. We wanted to avoid that, and the solution came from choosing Cambria Quartz, which is available in 11-foot “super slabs.” That allowed us to stretch the island to fit the space without a seam, seat four stools comfortably, and add extra storage at each end. The result was a ten-foot island that felt right for the room.
So that’s where we ended up—aside from one last-minute change we’ll describe later when we share mistakes and lessons. Yes, the kitchen feels big compared to the original footprint, but it functions so much better for our family. The key wins are:
- significantly more storage and prep space
- the main prep and sink area is much closer to the dining table
- the kitchen and living room feel far more connected
- a dedicated, hidden drop zone for shoes, bags, and coats right next to the door
- a large island for eating, homework, and hanging out with seating for all four of us
We did worry that the work triangle—sink, fridge, stove—would feel too spread out, but it hasn’t been an issue. Grouping and storing items thoughtfully has made our routines more efficient. For now, here are two more finished shots. The hidden mudroom cabinets next to the door have been a total sanity-saver.
They’re two identical, side-by-side floor-to-ceiling cabinets, each with two doors. The kids share the cabinet nearest the dining room (each with their own side), and Sherry and I share the other. Each “locker” has a basket for shoes, hooks for coats and bags, and a shelf for sunglasses, keys, and other small items. We added outlets for charging devices and use the door backs for photos, calendars, and reminder boards. In short, it’s been awesome.
Next we’ll walk you through the demo and reconstruction process—get ready for some gnarly photos of the room stripped down and rebuilt in a new way. We have a lot more to show and explain, so stay tuned for upcoming posts. In the meantime, I’ll be enjoying not having to walk around a peninsula 68 times each morning. Hallelujah.
P.S. – If you’re wondering about wall colors or where we sourced rugs, lighting, or furnishings, we created a page with all of that information.