Why I—and Countless Filipinos—Travel Great Distances for Jollibee

As I push open the double glass doors and step onto the gray, black, and white-tiled floor, I head towards the red-accented 'Order' sign at the fast food counter. The enticing aroma of fried chicken fills the air. I peruse the fast-food menu, pretending to deliberate over my choices, but ultimately, I know I’ll choose my childhood favorites: fried chicken, spaghetti, and peach mango pie. Patrons converse with the staff in Tagalog while families hustle to gather their utensils, creating an ambiance that feels reminiscent of Manila, Philippines. Yet, as I glance at the cars parked in the expansive lot outside, I’m jolted back to reality, realizing I’m in Alexandria, Virginia, far from home.

I found myself at Jollibee, a beloved Filipino fast-food chain with over 1,500 locations across 17 countries, from Saudi Arabia to Spain. In the U.S., there are 68 locations, and Canada has 28. The brand is expanding rapidly, with ambitious plans to reach 500 stores in North America in the next five to seven years.

As the top fast-food chain in the Philippines, Jollibee is woven into many Filipinos' memories. Even as an American-born Filipina raised in the suburbs of North Carolina, I understood the strong affection people have for this brand. Our family always made a point to stop at Jollibee when visiting relatives in Jacksonville, Florida. We would stock up on buckets of fried chicken to bring back to friends and family in North Carolina, even if it meant serving it cold hours later.

I’ve even heard tales of dedicated Jollibee fans who will drive across states just to enjoy a meal at the restaurant. As a child, this level of commitment seemed a bit excessive to me: Who would go so far for fast food when a ten-minute drive would suffice?

Over time, I came to appreciate the allure of the restaurant. When my sister and I planned to see Beetlejuice on Broadway last summer, we made sure to visit the Jollibee in Times Square afterward. A few years back, I embarked on one of those journeys I had once questioned as a child, driving with friends from North Carolina to the Jollibee in Virginia Beach. We created cherished memories along the way: calling our families to ask what they wanted us to bring back and snapping photos with the Jollibee mascot statue at the restaurant's entrance. For me, going to the restaurant was more than just enjoying the food; it was an unfiltered Filipino experience I could share with friends and family.

Like me, my friend Kyle Lorenzo, who has made at least three trips from North Carolina to the Jollibee in Virginia Beach, believes that these lengthy journeys are about more than just the meal itself.

“I think it also reflects how far and how extra Filipinos can sometimes be, which always makes me laugh,” he shares. “When Filipinos find something that resonates with them, even a little, it becomes a big deal, and we go all out. The lengths that some Filipinos will go to really highlight the pride within the community, while also showcasing how delightfully over the top we can be.”

The Origins of a Beloved Brand

Jollibee originated in the Philippines from two Magnolia Dairy Ice Cream franchises that Tony Tan Caktiong, a chemical engineering graduate, opened in 1975. After listening to customer feedback, Caktiong introduced hot food options like burgers and hot dogs, quickly making his shops so successful that he transformed them into the first Jollibee outlets in 1978. The brand also created its iconic anthropomorphic bee mascot, featuring a chef's hat, big eyes, and a broad smile, inspired by beloved Disney characters such as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. Its name symbolizes the organization's industrious and cooperative spirit, as well as its commitment to happiness.

However, the journey was not without its challenges: In 1981, McDonald’s launched its first restaurant in the Philippines, directly taking on Jollibee. Rather than conceding defeat or opting to franchise, Caktiong chose to compete directly with the U.S. giant on the menu front.

For those visiting Jollibee for the first time, there are numerous menu items that offer a sense of familiarity. The standout is its flagship offering, the “Yumburger,” which can be customized with extras like pineapple rings, bacon, lettuce, and tomato. Additionally, the menu features various fried chicken sandwiches and buckets of fried chicken called Chickenjoy, akin to offerings from restaurants like Popeye’s and KFC, yet seasoned with its own unique blend of spices.

Nevertheless, several dishes stand apart from McDonald’s typical menu. Take the Jollibee spaghetti, which debuted a year after the Yumburger in 1978. At first glance, it may resemble the savory spaghetti bolognese found in American Italian restaurants, but the initial taste reveals a sweet flavor (thanks to banana ketchup, a cherished Filipino condiment), and instead of meatballs, it features chunks of hot dogs. If you order a “burger steak,” you’ll receive a patty accompanied by rice and gravy instead of a bun, while “palabok fiesta” presents a rice noodle dish topped with garlic sauce, sautéed pork, shrimp, and egg.

For dessert, you can enjoy the peach mango pie, which—in my opinion—far surpasses the apple pie offered by McDonald’s. Occasionally, the fast-food chain also features halo-halo (which translates to “mix-mix” in Tagalog), a delightful shaved ice dessert that combines ube ice cream, flan, red beans, and other tasty ingredients served in a plastic cup.

After analyzing the brand, Jollibee’s founder recognized that the key was to cater to the Filipino palate's preference for sweet and savory flavors, instead of attempting to instill a craving for solely “American” cuisine.

Caktiong mentioned in a 2013 interview with Forbes Asia, "Our [food] is typically sweeter, spicier, and saltier. We were fortunate, as altering their offerings was a challenge for [McDonald’s] due to their global branding."

Jollibee's strategy of appealing to Filipino palates has proven successful. During his discussion with Forbes, Caktiong emphasized that this approach, combined with enhancing aspects like courtesy and service to outshine McDonald’s, helped Jollibee rank better in various customer surveys. Customers appeared to favor Jollibee’s marketing and promotions, leading to a significant preference for the restaurant over McDonald’s: A Statista study from 2021 showed Jollibee holding a market share of 30 percent, while McDonald’s trailed at 9.4 percent. By the end of 2022, McDonald’s had opened its 700th store, but Jollibee had nearly 500 more locations nationwide.

Outperforming McDonald’s in the fast-food sector may seem like a daunting task. Given the Philippines’s historical ties as a U.S. territory, which fosters a preference for American brands and culture, this underdog narrative feels almost legendary. In 2022, Forbes reported that Caktiong and his family boasted a net worth of approximately $2.6 billion, ranking them among the wealthiest individuals in the Philippines. Jollibee has become a symbol of resilience for the nation, particularly for Filipinos living abroad. Caktiong shared in a 2013 interview that the restaurant's international growth strategy involves focusing on large Filipino communities overseas, noting that advertising is unnecessary in these areas due to the inherent longing for home.

In a 2023 article for Time, Jollibee CEO Ernesto Tanmantiong echoed similar sentiments, stating that the company relies on support from the Filipino community in locations such as the United States, where the brand is not widely recognized. When Jollibee opened its first East Coast outlet in Queens, New York, on February 14, 2009, Tanmantiong recalled that despite a heavy snowstorm, lines extended up to four blocks away from the restaurant.

New patrons, familiar favorites

In April 2023, I visited my sister in Arlington, Virginia, and decided to make a short 20-minute drive to the Jollibee location in Alexandria, Virginia (which opened in 2022). While waiting for our food, I was pleasantly surprised to observe a diverse crowd at the restaurant. The demographic seemed to have transformed from the almost exclusively Filipino patrons I remembered from my childhood to a mix of people of various ages, races, and backgrounds. I chatted with some customers about their ties to the restaurant. Ellen Nguyen, a 25-year-old from the Washington metro area, shared that she learned about Jollibee from friends who visited the branch in Virginia Beach. Upon the opening of the Alexandria location, she decided to check it out and quickly became a fan.

“With social media being so prevalent today, I feel like Jollibee is really broadening its reach,” Ellen remarked as she finished her meal. “What’s great about social media is that we can share everything.”

In the days before social media became a constant presence, the restaurant seemed like a hidden gem to outsiders, known only to culinary adventurers like Anthony Bourdain (who famously referred to it as “the wackiest, jolliest place on Earth”). Nowadays, searching for “Jollibee” on YouTube unveils a multitude of videos showcasing people “Trying Jollibee for the First Time!” Influencers fumble through the pronunciations of palabok and meticulously cut their burger steaks as if dissecting a scientific specimen, striving to understand what exactly is on their plate. Watching these videos feels strangely intimate. Jollibee embodies the unique blend of Spanish, American, and Asian culinary influences in the Philippines—viewers’ perceptions of the food resonate as broader reflections of Filipino culture, and by extension, of my own identity. As I scroll through the comments on these videos, I find fellow internet users expressing similar thoughts. “As a Filipino-American, I feel like I’m being celebrated every time Keith enjoys the food lol,” one commenter wrote on the Try Guys’ “Keith Eats Everything At Jollibee” video.

Word is spreading about Filipino cuisine beyond major diaspora hubs like New York and California. Yet, for those of us raised with the brand, the nostalgia seems to drive those lengthy yet unforgettable journeys.

Mayenni Cayao, a 39-year-old Filipina originally from Manila, shared that she grew up loving the brand and worked at the restaurant when she was just 17. “I’ve been [in the United States] for almost 20 years. [Back then], it felt like you were longing for the food, and had to travel to California or somewhere similar.”

She and her husband Wilson drove all the way from Virginia to New York for the snowy opening of the Queens restaurant nearly 15 years ago. Despite the more than 200-mile journey, her husband insists that the trip was worth every mile. “The flavor is unique. The food. You [couldn’t find it in Alexandria]. Now, at last, they have come here.” Mayenni mentions that their family’s trips to Virginia Beach with their five-year-old daughter, Stella, “always” include a visit to Jollibee.

I hear a similar sentiment from Lance Ramos, who shares his memories with the fast-food chain while enjoying his pineapple quencher. The 28-year-old, born in Cavite, Philippines, cherishes how the Jollibee experience—filled with the aromas of fried chicken and pineapple juice—remains just as it was “back home.”

We discuss his road trips to New York and Virginia Beach just to get Jollibee, before shifting to talk about the restaurant’s growing popularity among non-Filipinos. Ramos gestures to a Fairfax County policeman behind him, patiently waiting for his order at the counter.

“You might assume it’s solely a Filipino trend, but nowadays, everyone seems to be making the drive,” he shares with me.

I expressed my gratitude for the interview opportunity and quickly made my way back to my sister at a nearby table. By that time, our to-go order had already arrived, and we were eager to get to her house before the Chickenjoy cooled down.