GILBERT, Ariz. — Just steps from the porticos, patios, clay-tiled roofs and manicured lawns of suburbia, Kelly Saxer has gotten used to questions. As she weaves through tomato vines, snaps asparagus and generally gets her hands dirty, visitors and even some nearby residents want to know what she’s doing — and how the farm where she works wound up here.
‘’Sometimes it feels like we’re animals in a zoo a little bit because people will walk by and they’ll just stare, you know, like gawk at us,’’ Saxer said.
This is Agritopia, an 11-acre (4.5-hectare) organic farm that’s all that remains after miles of alfalfa, corn, cotton, durum wheat and sugar beets were swallowed up by Phoenix’s roaring development.
In this ‘’agrihood’’ — a residential community that includes a working farm — kids play outside at a school that borders vegetable fields or in communal green spaces nestled between homes. Well-dressed couples and boisterous teenagers flock for selfies and picturesque photos. Lines form at the diner featured on Guy Fieri’s Food Network show. On the farm itself, people can walk the dirt roads, rent out plots to grow their own foods or buy its produce.
Some developers have turned to the agrihood concept in the past couple of decades to lure buyers with a different kind of amenity. At least 27 U.S. states and Canadian provinces had agrihoods as of a 2018 report from the Urban Land Institute, and more have cropped up since then.
Experts say agrihoods cater to buyers interested in sustainability, access to healthy food and a mix of urban and rural life. The core aim of many projects is to ‘’create a feeling for people,’’ said Matt Norris, one of the lead authors of that report.
Agritopia’s founders saw change coming, and made a plan
It was the late 1990s when the family behind Agritopia saw ‘’the writing on the wall,’’ said Joe Johnston.