The spring air is crisp against my face as I weave through the excited crowd gathered at Garrison Common. It’s the kind of perfect Toronto day that makes winter feel like a distant memory—sunshine warming your shoulders while a gentle breeze keeps you comfortable. Around me, the unmistakable symphony of sizzling grills, clinking glasses, and laughter rises above the ambient music.
I’ve been covering food festivals across Canada for nearly a decade now, but there’s something uniquely special about Feastie Food Festival as it returns to Toronto for its 2024 edition. Perhaps it’s the way it manages to feel both curated and spontaneous—a gathering that celebrates both established culinary stars and hidden gems from across the city’s diverse food scene.
“We wanted to create something that truly represents Toronto’s culinary identity,” explains Maya Desai, the festival’s founder, as we chat beside a booth serving reimagined Caribbean-Korean fusion tacos. “That means bringing together everything from homestyle cooking to fine dining techniques, all in one accessible space.”
The festival, running from June 14 to 16 at Garrison Common, has quickly established itself as one of Toronto’s most anticipated food events since its inception. This year, over 50 vendors will showcase their creations, with an expanded focus on both international cuisines and hyper-local ingredients.
Walking the grounds yesterday during the media preview, I stopped to watch Aiden Choi of Pojangmacha, last year’s crowd favorite, demonstrate his technique for perfecting Korean street food classics. His hands moved with practiced precision as he explained how he incorporates Ontario produce into traditional recipes.
“Food is never just about taste,” Choi tells the gathered onlookers, many recording his every move on their phones. “It carries stories of migration, of family, of adaptation. That’s what makes Toronto’s food scene so incredible—it’s constantly evolving while honoring its roots.”
This philosophy seems to define the festival itself. Unlike some food events that feel more like Instagram backdrops than genuine culinary experiences, Feastie emphasizes connection—between chefs and diners, between cultures, between the food on your plate and the land it comes from.
The festival has partnered with FoodShare Toronto this year, with a portion of each ticket supporting their food security initiatives. Between bites of perfectly charred jerk chicken from Patois and sips of natural wine from Paradise Grapevine, festival-goers can participate in workshops on reducing food waste or composting basics.
Among the most anticipated vendors this year is Afrobeat Kitchen, whose Nigerian-inspired dishes consistently draw the longest lines. “We sold out by 2 PM last year,” laughs chef-owner Nimi Adebayo. “This time we’ve tripled our preparation.” Her jollof arancini—a brilliant fusion of West African and Italian techniques—exemplifies the creative cross-cultural conversations happening throughout the festival grounds.
The beverage program has expanded significantly for 2024, with local craft breweries like Blood Brothers and Left Field pouring limited-edition creations alongside cocktail specialists like Project Gigglewater mixing drinks that highlight local, seasonal ingredients.
“We’ve seen a real shift in how people approach these events,” notes Samantha Wong, Feastie’s beverage director. “There’s genuine curiosity about process and provenance. People want to know the story behind what they’re consuming.”
That curiosity extends to the festival’s new Maker’s Market, where small-batch producers of everything from hot sauce to honey showcase their crafts. I watch as Daisy Rivera of Abuela’s Secret demonstrates her family’s generations-old process for fermenting hot peppers, drawing an attentive crowd despite the tempting food aromas drifting from every direction.
For those planning to attend, here’s my journalist’s insider tip: arrive early, wear comfortable shoes, and bring cash as backup though most vendors accept cards. The festival operates on a general admission basis ($25) that grants you entry, with food and drinks purchased separately from vendors. VIP passes ($75) include early access, a dedicated lounge area, and complimentary drinks.
As the sun begins to set on my preview day, I find myself at a communal table sharing observations with strangers who quickly become temporary friends. The woman across from me, originally from Lebanon, is enthusiastically describing how a particular spice blend in her dessert reminds her of her grandmother’s kitchen. To my left, a culinary student is furiously taking notes after each taste.
This is perhaps what makes Feastie most valuable in a city sometimes criticized for losing its cultural spaces to development—it creates a temporary but meaningful community centered around one of our most fundamental shared experiences: breaking bread together.
When I ask festival attendees what brings them back year after year, the answers vary but share a common thread. “Where else can you taste the entire city in one afternoon?” offers Michael Chan, a self-described “food festival veteran” from Scarborough. “This is Toronto on a plate.”
As I prepare to leave, I notice chef Suzanne Barr of True True Diner deep in conversation with a young aspiring chef. Barr, whose commitment to equity in the restaurant industry is well-documented, later tells me: “These festivals aren’t just about consumption. They’re incubators for the next generation, spaces where we pass down knowledge and build community.”
It’s a fitting observation for an event that manages to be both a celebration and a conversation—about food, yes, but also about the city itself and the countless cultural threads that make up its rich tapestry.
Feastie Food Festival runs June 14-16 at Garrison Common, with tickets available through their website. Based on previous years, weekend passes are likely to sell out, so early purchase is recommended for those hoping to taste some of the best that Toronto has to offer.
