Living Between Toronto and Prince Edward County: Considerations for regenerative communities
Last November, I decided to rent a house in Prince Edward County for a year. It is a trial experiment where my partner and I can spend part of the week in "the County." This experiment was fuelled by my desire to dig deeper into what it means to live in an area of the province that, in recent years, began experiencing a burgeoning collection of food-based attractions like wineries and restaurants helmed by creative chefs--amidst yoga retreats, weekend getaways, wedding venues--and skyrocketing real estate prices. Call it a culinary destination or simply agri-tourism, but living in the County is already offering me far more than merely having the opportunity to divide my time between Toronto and somewhere more bucolic. I have already met many folks who are similarly dividing their time between Toronto and the County, an assemblage of small towns, wards and enclaves roughly two-and-a-half hours east of Toronto. But my intentions are also professional: I am an architect fascinated by the links between food and place. There is even a word for that: "Sitopia," which comes from the Greek words sitos (food) and topos (place). A Sitopia can help conceptualize healthier, restorative and regenerative environments.
Living in Sitopia should be more than artisanal honey, red pepper jelly, mediocre local wine or overpriced charcuterie boards that pop up on my Instagram feed. Nor is living Sitopia about having delicious sourdough bread and microgreens recently delivered from a nearby farm by a woman pulling up to my house driving a Tesla.
In the enchanting realms of urban planning and design, where architecture, local food production, and communal well-being intertwine, I first came across the term "Sitopia" from Carolyn Steel, a British architect who wrote Sitopia: How Food Can Save the World. Steel's book discusses how we produce, distribute, and consume food and how these factors shape our cities and societies, impacting everything from architecture to social structures. Steel advocates for a more sustainable, localized approach to food production and consumption, emphasizing the importance of understanding our foodshed—the geographic area where a community sources food. "Sitopia" proposes a vision where cities are designed around the principles of food and place, creating a more harmonious and resilient coexistence between urban life and the natural world. Her call to reevaluate our relationship with food and recognize its transformative potential in building a more sustainable and interconnected future is, in my view, emblematic of our broader aspirations to regenerative design--a goal in which we should not only reduce our carbon footprint, energy consumption and reliance on fossil fuels and begin to heal our ecosystems by increasing biodiversity with healthier communities. Building a Sitopia isn't a panacea but a concept that could provide more practical solutions in balancing urban growth with improved ecological stewardship.
There are a lot of large SUVs and pick-up trucks burning a whole lot of fossil fuel in the county, a milieu where income inequality is rife, there is no public transit, and only a precious few sign up for Pilates classes. Also, I'm not convinced there is even a deep connection between food and place here in ways that extend beyond locally grown $10-dollar spaghetti squash or a time-limited table reserved with a credit card when most of the population shops at the local No Frills grocery store featuring "locally produced" bags of synthetic Hawkins Cheezies. But that doesn't mean it isn't possible. I'm convinced that I'm living in a place well-positioned to become a Sitopia, a state of being far more attainable Utopia (a term coined by Thomas More and derived from the Greek "ou topos" or "no place").
In many ways, the cosmopolitan nature of Toronto, with its diverse neighbourhoods and vibrant culinary scene, makes for a richer geography in which food and place converge. Factor in the many rooftop gardens, communal spaces, and sustainability-principled architecture, along with the city's park systems, a healthy system of ravines, and extensive community gardens--and there are a lot of positive platforms from which Toronto is more successful at cultivating its own Sitopia. Year-round farmers' markets as bustling social hubs and communal kitchens offer further spaces for culinary collaborations that echo the spirit of Sitopia. As a city of neighbourhoods, Toronto has a solid basis for boasting a commitment to sustainability that could be integral (and integrative of) an urban narrative that convincingly aligns with Steel's vision for communal well-being driven by food. But the link between food and place is more palpable here in Prince Edward County.
As I split my time between Toronto and the County, I am still figuring out a way to synchronize the urban vigour of Toronto with the rural reverence for a place like the County where local ingredients are sourced from nearby farms and the act of cooking them becomes a tribute to the rich agricultural tapestry that defines the region. But here I am in January, when the County's picnic spots, communal gardens, and open-air markets where the community gathers are closed for the season. Despite what my Instagram feed attempts to show me with County destinations for cider and dips, winter and local agri-tourism simply don't align. Nevertheless, the County has enormous potential to make a stake in the ground as it experiences much growth. One formidable and spectacular clue is Base 31, a 70-acre former Air Force base with over 50 historic structures overlooking Picton (pop. 4,500), the County's largest town.
Base 31 will eventually be part of a much more extensive 750-acre redevelopment led by a group of developers that includes Tercot Communities, DECO Communities, Rockport Group, and PEC Placemaking Inc. Today, it is home to about 75 commercial and industrial businesses and a popular concert venue. The long-term vision will provide affordable housing and commercial space, mixed-use residential, site servicing and infrastructure, and adaptive reuse of heritage sites while explicitly focusing on creative placemaking (a term describing a process where community members, artists, arts and culture organizations, community developers, and other stakeholders use arts and cultural strategies to implement community-led change). There are dedicated municipal staff working on Base 31's planning needs. There are concerns about water and sewage. But to slow-walk this development unnecessarily would be a once-in-a-generation opportunity squandered.
With a 25-year expected build-out of 7,500 residences, more than 50 collaborations and community investments in local organizations have already been made at Base 31. Thousands of visitors (including myself) have attended various concerts and events. The mandate is convincing: create economic opportunities throughout, and in conjunction with, the County. Community engagement will continue to evolve and shape public amenities and spaces over time. Here is an excellent opportunity to seek out a bona fide Sitopia. Many examples exist elsewhere. One development that Steel references in her book is BedZED in the UK. Although not directly comparable to the scale, context and ambition of Base 31, the creative placemaking team would benefit from looking at this British development and others like it
