Is Taste of Lawrence one of the last authentic food festivals in Toronto?

I spent an entire day at Taste of Lawrence this past weekend, and if there's one thing I couldn't help but notice, it was how different it felt from all of the other summer street festivals in Toronto.

At a time when many neighbourhood festivals have become dominated by corporations and travelling food trucks that seem to appear at every event in the city, Taste of Lawrence still feels rooted in the community.

Organized by the Wexford Heights BIA, the three-day festival transforms Lawrence Avenue East between Warden Avenue and Birchmount Road into a celebration of the neighbourhood, bringing together local restaurants, cultural performances and community programming all weekend long.

This year's festival also featured a soccer-themed installation tied to the 2026 FIFA World Cup — because no event seems to be complete without a soccer nod this year — alongside returning attractions such as the Rising Stars talent showcase and the popular Ultimutts dog show.

When I'm out at an event of this scale, one thing I always like to do is observe, and while walking through the festival, I found that community focus impossible to miss.

Instead of long rows of travelling food trucks, much of the food came directly from neighbourhood restaurants operating temporary stalls, many cooking on grills set up right outside their businesses. While there were still some specialty vendors — Tiny Tom Donuts and BeaverTails, for example — the festival felt more like an extension of the Wexford food district than a collection of vendors following the summer festival circuit.

And you know who agrees? Toronto's very own mayor, Olivia Chow.

"Taste of Lawrence is all very local, very Scarborough; lots of local folks," Chow tells blogTO. She goes on to say that the entire Wexford community has been revitalized over the years, but the one thing that's stayed the same is the essence of Taste of Lawrence.

"The festival is about developing local artists and local merchants. Look at the number of young kids here. It is great. It's 22 years old; generations grew up coming to Taste of Lawrence, and now they're bringing their own kids."

After speaking with Chow, I sampled a watermelon slushie from 169 Juice (a refreshing way to cool off in Toronto's heat), and while waiting for my drink, I struck up a conversation with Ryan, the owner's son, at the stall.

He shed some light on the declining foot traffic affecting businesses in the area, including his own, but said they continue to return to Taste of Lawrence because the festival helps 169 Juice connect with the locals.

"I feel it's pretty diverse here, a great way to run the business for a day and sell to our day-to-day area, because it seems like they're all local here," Ryan says before handing me my drink.

As I sipped from the massive watermelon, the idea of locals catering to their own community stuck with me. It also brought to mind conversations that often pop up around this time of year, surrounding other Toronto food festivals.

Recent criticism of Taste of Little Italy has centred on the growing number of outside vendors with little connection to the neighbourhood, and a lack of Italian food, leaving some attendees feeling the annual event has drifted from its original identity.

I continued making my way through the festival, relishing a delicious double from Dave's Drupatis, and realized the vendor lineup offers the perfect melange of Wexford's broader culinary scene.

You have takoyaki from Osaka Street Food, rotis from Dave's Drupatis, and skewers from "world famous" Miss Greasy. It's truly a mosaic of the neighbourhood's cuisines.

By the time I got to one of the festival's most popular snacks,  a rice hot dog from Chungchun Rice Hot Dog, let's just say the watermelon slushie, the double, and the small helping of sweet-and-salty popcorn had me wishing I'd worn pants with an elastic waistband.

But despite feeling full, I still ordered the veggie rice hot dog topped with crispy potato pieces, deep-fried and lathered in sweet chili sauce, spicy mayo, and classic hot sauce. I mean, how could I not?

Taste buds (and my waistband) were bursting, and my day was made.

That was my cue to walk the length of Lawrence Avenue back to my car, burn off a few calories, and reflect on the sense of community Taste of Lawrence had left me with.

There was very little that felt like a "generic street festival" about Taste of Lawrence. It felt connected to the businesses, performers, and families who call the neighborhood home.

After 22 years, that kind of authenticity feels increasingly rare.