I’ve realised the secret to making my home feel cosy in autumn isn’t decorating – it’s cooking
How cooking brings warmth, colour and life back into my home
Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.
There is a particular moment I look forward to every year when Autumn begins. It isn't necessarily the first turning leaf or the first chilly morning, although I love those too. For me, it is the day the Aga gets switched back on. I will also say that I am still not over the pure joy and novelty of being an Aga owner. It is all part of my living-in-the-country dream, and I was thrilled that the cottage we bought came complete with a lovely old Aga in the kitchen. You might think I'm slightly mad to be so excited about an oven, but there is something about having that warmth back in the kitchen that makes the whole house feel different.
The pets certainly agree with me. Suddenly everyone migrates towards the Aga, squabbling over the best warm patch and settling down as though they've been waiting for it all summer too. And it isn't just an oven. It heats a large portion of our home during the winter months and is brilliant for drying wet clothes and sodden school shoes in an emergency which, in our house, is not an infrequent occurrence.
Inevitably, once it's on, I'm cooking. The Aga seems to encourage it. There is something wonderfully comforting about having something bubbling away on the hob or slowly cooking in the oven. At this time of year there might be apples stewing down from the trees at the end of the garden, a pan of bone broth simmering away, vegetables roasting for dinner or a big pot of soup made from whatever we've managed to harvest. Roasting a whole pumpkin slowly and scooping out the flesh for creamy soups has been a game changer for easy, cheap and warming lunches through the winter months. And cooking my favourite homemade granola makes the whole house smell heavenly. I think that's one of the things I love most about autumn cosiness: it isn't just something you see, it's something you smell, hear and feel.
In summer, our kitchen tends to be a place we pass through. We eat outside, throw together quick meals or BBQ and make the most of the lighter evenings. But once autumn arrives, cooking becomes part of the rhythm of the house again. The kitchen becomes somewhere to linger, hot chocolates get made for homework at the kitchen table and everyone seems to feel a little bit hungrier again.
Our harvest seems to find its way inside too. There are always pumpkins and squashes appearing in corners, baskets of vegetables waiting to be used and whatever else we've picked from the garden that day. I don't particularly want to hide all of it away in cupboards. I like seeing it. A bowl of apples on the kitchen table is both useful and decorative. A pile of pumpkins looks beautiful without any styling whatsoever. A bunch of flowers from the garden can make a room feel instantly happier even when the room itself is in desperate need of a good hoover.
This is probably why I don't feel the need to buy lots of specifically 'autumnal' decorations. Nature has already done a pretty good job.
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The colours arriving outside are also inspiration for me: rusty oranges, deep greens, muddy pinks, faded yellows and those slightly unexpected combinations that I love so much when I'm screen printing. I find myself bringing those colours indoors without really thinking about it, through vegetables, flowers, pottery, textiles and the things that are simply being used every day.
I've realised that my favourite things in the kitchen at this time of year are the things that feel as though they have a story. Handmade bowls, slightly imperfect mugs, old serving dishes and pieces I've picked up over the years all suddenly come into their own when there is something warm and comforting to put in them.
I love displaying all the different-shaped tomatoes I have grown in colourful bowls before they get cooked. They become part of the kitchen for a few days before disappearing into a sauce or a salad. A big bowl of soup doesn't need much styling. Put it on the table in a beautiful, slightly wonky bowl with some good bread beside it and you've already created something that feels inviting.
When something is bubbling away on the Aga, there is a reason to wander in and check it. Someone will come looking for a taste. The pets are underfoot. The windows steam up. There might be a pile of vegetables waiting to be chopped and flowers from the garden taking up more space than they probably should on the table. It is lived in, rather than perfect.
Perhaps because we're all becoming increasingly conscious of how much everything costs, I am certainly feeling it every time I do a food shop and I do try and buy food thats in Season and on offer. There is something very satisfying about making a meal from things you've grown, turning a bag of apples into something that will last for several days, or making broth from bones that might otherwise have been thrown away. None of it feels like a compromise. In fact, it feels like quite the opposite.
The same goes for making the house feel cosy. I would much rather make it warmer with food, flowers, blankets, lamps and the things I already own than buy a whole new set of autumn accessories every September. Sometimes the cheapest way to make your home feel different is simply to use it differently.
Cook something slowly. Put flowers on the table. Bring the vegetables you've grown inside. Get out the pottery you've made or simply love. Light a candle.
I find once my children go back at school and the days start getting darker and chillier, I find myself wanting to bake more. I love knowing there is something warm and homemade waiting for them when they get home from school. It doesn't have to be anything complicated – apple, cinnamon and oat cookies (make the house smell so good), a quick and easy loaf cake, if I can sneak a vegetable into it, even better.
Beetroot brownies have been a particular success. I'm currently experimenting with courgette cake, although I should probably admit that this one has not gone down quite so well. Apparently there are limits to how many vegetables my children are prepared to accept in cake form. I'm not giving up yet.
Perhaps that's why I love this time of year so much. Autumn makes me want to cook, bake, grow, harvest and make the most of what we already have.
It makes me look at the things I've grown in the garden, the pottery I've collected or made, the colours outside and the slightly battered kitchen I'm lucky enough to have, and see them all a little differently and maybe that is what makes a home feel cosy in the first place.
Not having everything perfect, or buying something new every time the seasons change, but having a house that smells of something good cooking, flowers on the table, muddy vegetables waiting to be eaten, pets asleep by the Aga and children coming home hungry from school. For me, autumn is when our house really starts to feel like home as we settle into the longer darker evenings.
Hannah Carvell is a screen printer based in the rural heart of Somerset, where she works from a converted stone outbuilding nestled beside her cottage. Her work has been featured in national press such as Livingetc and Ideal Home, and in the the homes - and Instagram feeds - of people such as Erica Davies and Louise Thompson. Her home studio is the creative hub where she hand-pulls her vibrant, layered prints, known for their rich use of colour and the alchemy of overlapping inks that produce unexpected, luminous shades.
Hannah's signature aesthetic – bold, playful, and full of movement – reflects her fascination with how hues interact and transform when placed in conversation with one another.