A garden kitchen is a new genre on the cusp becoming a popular addition to a well-planned property. It provides a way of immersing oneself in the garden’s realm, an easy and continuous way of experiencing nature, sunlight, trees and sky while still being protected from the elements. An open shelter, perhaps housed in a conservatory, orangery, pergola, loggia or semi-open structure that opens and closes according to climatic requirements. Whatever cover is chosen, it acts like an environmental filter; the idea is to be comfortable but as open to nature as possible.

It is important to realize that it is not a replacement for a kitchen. It is an additional facility, a rough luxe version where you can forget worries about storage where the furniture is plants as well as functional pieces of the carpentered variety. The locus is maybe still cooking, ideally with an open fire or with a suitable appliance for barbecuing but its companion function, and perhaps most critical one, is its role for outdoor congregation, either around a fire or with a table – placed in the open or under shade or weather protection of some kind. The third use is a more private one – communing with nature, de-stressing and enjoying the garden’s poetic and aesthetic pleasures.

The gardens that surround our homes are often divorced from the rooms inside and out of sync with views from key windows. Kitchens and living rooms are often designed to promote internal priorities such as maximizing size, serious décor work, circulation or, historically, making a fireplace work. According to research, the average Westerner spends 80% of their time indoors. The expectation our bodies have accumulated through evolution is the reverse.

In our search for well-being we need to develop living habits that allow us to be outside for much longer. We are hard-wired, as neuroscientists such as John Zeisel tell us, for prolonged exposure to the flowers, plants, green space and sky. Access to nature, as well as exposure to long views and seasonal routines, keeps us calm. Part of my work at JG Studios has been to develop a concept I have termed “instinct-based design”.

Creating outdoor kitchens is part of that programme. By listening to our instincts we can make kitchens and gardens that work together and make us feel good. The effort, time and expenditure that people lavish on their gardens is often wasted as the rooms of the house where most of time is spent are not visible.

Without French doors, growing beautiful flowers, trimming hedges, mowing the lawn, filling pots, building ponds and construct rose arbors’ seem a little wasted. ‘You own what you see’ has been attributed to Capability Brown. How many of us have that pleasure in our gardens?

JG Studios have been asked recently to design a number of garden kitchens and will be exhibiting at the London Chelsea Flower Show (25th-29th May) with Alitex - makers of conservatories and greenhouses and endorsed by the National Trust. It will be a great opportunity to explore the new concept of the garden kitchen further.

It was a day for those who love ideas and stories. Last month, I participated in TEDxObserver in a format more camp-fire than classroom.

Twenty-one speakers talked about survival, campaigning and making a difference, in sixteen minute slots. They broadcasted the best currency available, their own brand of optimism. For many, it was a response to difficulties faced in their own lives, but also for the purpose of making the lives of others more worth living. For others it was giving something back, whether as entertainment, or ideas, both big and small.

It is hard to know whose performance to start describing – maybe the dancing psychologist/researcher, Peter Lovatt who got us dancing in our seats. (See the video of him here.) I found out later he and his wife dance in their kitchen. Mark Solms is a neuro-psycho-analyst, wine-making farmer who offered a historical solution to South Africa’s land problem. Or maybe Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish, a Palestinian who lost his three daughters to Israeli shelling while they were at home together. He is the embodiment of anti-hate messages with a personal philosophy that we could all use at times, especially in the world’s most troubled region. Another standout was Renee Redzepi, the Danish chef whose restaurant Noma was voted best in the world. His menus combine wildness, fresh flavours and sourcing of ingredients in a way that is unshakably connected to its origins. He has set up a gastronomic research institute in Copenhagen. I so want go and taste them.

My response to the talks involved a full spectrum of emotions. I was alternatively enchanted, appalled, worried or inspired. Music provided necessary breaks to accommodate the intensity of the lectures. Young British soul singer Alice Russell and Senegalese musician Baaba Maal took us away from the conference chambers into a place where we could rest, especially necessary after hearing about the experience of British Paralympic athlete Martine Wright, who sat next to the 7/7 bomber and found herself alive with no legs.

Ex-Downing St policy adviser, Geoff Mulgan brought us a dose of applied research, patiently explaining how happiness can be measured, applied and put money back in its place. Sara Brown, who runs Piggy BankKids, a program to reduce maternal and infant mortality in developing countries, reminded how far a small amount of money can go. Similarly, former supermodel and founder of the Happy Hearts Foundation Petra Nemcova builds schools after tsunamis and disasters. Such messages were a call to action. A film clip from Home by director Yann Arthus-Bertrand reminded us of the beauty of the planet and the pressure we are putting it under to feed and clothe us. The title is particularly evocative to a designer like myself who has spent a large part of his life re-enforcing the value, meaning and safety of ‘home’.

This TEDx event was locally organised by the Observer’s feature writer, Carole Cadwalladr and editor John Mullholland. Although the sessions occasionally felt disjointed, one of the highlights was allowing real people, rather than celebrities, to tell their stories, which made for a visceral rather than intellectual experience. Visceral learning is a more powerful way of remembering things, especially on such a variety of topics. TED and the Observer have developed a winning format that could be applied at future conferences. I can see many more coming up and hope to be involved in some way.