For a day or two in December, the architectural imagination migrates its medium, and the workaday tribulations of CAD, Revit and Grasshopper give way to the tactile, aromatic pleasures of cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon. From Toronto’s KPMB to the Rockwell Group, Morris Adjmi and Robert A.M. Stern, designers across North America have embraced the romance of the season, bringing an exacting eye to the gingerbread architecture of gumdrops, frosting and candy canes.
Beyond the sheer novelty of seeing architectural icons and contemporary buildings in gingerbread form, the fusion of professional design culture and a popular holiday pastime also yields thought-provoking results. For instance, last year’s

Here in Toronto,


My favourite event is organized by the Toronto Society of Architects (TSA). Every December, the TSA’s

In the main draw, the TSA’s 2024 Gingerbread City proves just as thought-provoking. This year’s eclectic entries range from cozy houses and winter wonderlands to takes on the CN tower, and even a deliciously detailed replica of Toronto’s Ace Hotel. The most surprising — and delightful — entires come from Michelle Chan and


It might just be dessert, but there’s political and architectural meaning behind the molasses. When we build gingerbread houses, our creations evoke feelings of warmth, nostalgia, aspiration and idyll. Chan and León Danis have folded affordable multi-unit social housing — typologies long neglected and maligned in the North American imagination — into the romantic canon of gingerbread, farming these buildings with a new cultural context. These are homes worth celebrating, dreaming about and building much more of — in gingerbread and in brick.
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