Crossing the threshold
James Hill wants hospitality that engages every sense and tells the story of its place, not status-driven luxury.
What’s a space that felt right the moment you walked in, and why?
One trip took my wife, my mother, my two sisters and our chef (poor guy!) to the far north of Sweden, to experience a restaurant we had discovered on Netflix’s “Chef’s Table”.
was Magnus Nilsson’s labour of love, set in an old Swedish barn on a 10,000-acre estate that embodied the essence of Nordic remoteness. The bedrooms were very simple, almost dorm-like, but the materiality throughout reflected the place and its culture.
We began with a beer and some charcuterie laid out for us before stepping into the sauna, overlooking woodland and autumn colours. From the first moment, everything felt rooted, honest and deeply connected to its environment.
What stood out about the dining experience?
Dinner brought a thirty-course banquet. The chefs delivered each dish in unison, accompanied by a clap before every announcement.
Every plate drew on nature as a canvas, presenting ingredients that had been hunted, foraged or caught locally. While eating was central, the lighting on the aged timber beams of the historic barn created a theatrical atmosphere. You didn’t just taste each mouthful, you felt it.
How did this experience influence you?
It was an experience that touched me for life and sowed the seeds for opening Grace & Savour and .
For the first time, I understood what a truly immersive experience could be: something that engages all the senses and aligns every detail to tell a meaningful story about place and culture.
What’s your favourite space, and why?
I’m quite nostalgic and love returning to where I grew up. My formative memories are of the 400-year-old inn my parents bought when I was four. We lived above the pub; Mum cooked and Dad worked the bar.
Today, I visit Worcester once a month for a retreat day. A friend has restored an old chapel into a one-bedroom hideaway near the River Severn. It has become an anchor, a rhythm that keeps me focused on what matters.
It’s a simple place, but I’m convinced we get more from a space by choosing how we enter it and how we engage with it.
What makes a space work, in your view?
For me, the emotional and sensory experience of a space matters most. A few thoughtful pieces with history and story invite you to settle in.
Textures and materiality elevate a place. They may increase build costs, but they make spaces timeless and often reduce refurbishment costs over their lifetime.
What’s one detail people often overlook?
Thresholds. I’ve often left them too late to get right.
Transitions between spaces can be powerful and meaningful, and they are a mark of great architecture and design. One we executed well was the large oak frame at the entrance to . It was made from a Hungarian oak that had fallen on our estate before we purchased it. Passing through that threshold means touching nearly 180 years of history.
Passing through that threshold means touching nearly 180 years of history.
Is there a moment in a place that has stayed with you?
A restaurant that deeply shaped my thinking is by Nathan Outlaw. It was a tiny Cornish house on the harbour, with space for only three chefs behind the counter.
The food was honest, unfussy and deeply soulful. Small plates, incredible seafood and a warm atmosphere. It was the perfect marriage of place and offering.
What’s a place more people should know about?
For our twentieth wedding anniversary, we visited in Scotland. Pam and Rob have created an experience that is true to Scotland’s food story. The interiors reflect their spirit: simple, natural and free of pretence. Bedrooms have record players, and everything puts you at ease.
Where’s at the top of your list to visit next?
Our next trip is to Italy, to visit by Massimo Bottura. For me, the true test is how connected I feel when I leave, to the place and to the people.
I have a friend who runs a café in Stirchley called . It’s simple, honest and made for the neighbourhood. This is what I want from a restaurant: to enter someone’s home, to be guided by them, and to discover a place through the creator’s rootedness in their community.
I’m done with status-driven luxury. New luxury is about people, values, belonging and community.
New luxury is about people, values, belonging and community.
