Jollibee’s International operations now deliver real growth and profits, with double-digit same-store sales across major regions and roughly 40% of EBITDA (earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization) coming from overseas, underscoring that the company is no longer dependent on Philippine consumption alone. Despite this momentum, Jollibee is still financed like a restaurant operator — lease-heavy, capital-intensive, and exposed to operating volatility — placing a ceiling on valuation.

The planned spin-off and potential listing of its international business on a United States (US) securities exchange by 2027 highlights the opportunity ahead: if Jollibee shifts decisively toward a McDonald’s-style, asset-light, franchise-led model that prioritizes cash flow over store count, it could unlock a far higher valuation. Emotion built the brand; discipline will determine whether it becomes truly global in value, not just in presence.

It did not begin as a corporate strategy. There were no spreadsheets, no investor decks, no valuation models forecasting global dominance. Jollibee Foods Corporation began as a small, almost sentimental experiment in Manila — warm, familiar, and unmistakably Filipino. Its earliest customers were not looking for efficiency or scale. They came for comfort. Fried chicken tasted like home. Spaghetti was unapologetically sweet. Even the mascot smiled the way Filipinos did — wide, earnest, and slightly theatrical.

What truly embedded Jollibee into the national psyche was not food alone, but emotion. Few consumer brands anywhere in the world have understood how to monetize sentiment as effectively. Jollibee’s advertisements did not sell meals; they sold longing — parents working abroad, love delayed by poverty, sacrifice repaid at a fast-food counter. These commercials became cultural events, replayed and shared like short films. Jollibee ceased to be just a restaurant. It became something closer to family, a brand Filipinos defended instinctively. (READ: Jollibee’s 10 most viewed Facebook videos before ‘Vow,’ ‘Crush,’ and ‘Date’)

Long before data analytics, loyalty apps, and algorithmic targeting, Jollibee mastered something more primal: capitalizing on how smell can instantly trigger an emotional response along with a memory. The now-iconic “Langhap-Sarap” television campaign, launched in 1983, was not a mere slogan engineered in a boardroom, but an insight drawn from lived experience. My dear friend Bobby Sumulong, then Jollibee’s marketing manager, had brought in the late Minyong Ordoñez, an advertising legend, to develop campaigns for the company’s hamburger line in order to boost the brand’s early growth. Ordoñez drew on a childhood memory familiar to many Filipinos: the smell of meat hitting hot oil to signal that the food was almost ready. Hunger then followed aroma, and comfort followed hunger. “Langhap-Sarap” gave language to instinct, turning scent into promise and appetite into emotion. It told Filipinos that Jollibee did not just feed them; it understood them.

The brilliance of the campaign was that it did not invent behavior — it validated it. Long before the phrase entered the Filipino lexicon, Jollibee’s founder Tony Tan Caktiong had already discovered, intuitively, what global chains would later formalize systematically: demand often begins before a transaction. Tan Caktiong deliberately positioned grills so that the meaty aroma of burgers drifted into the street, turning sidewalks into funnels of anticipation. People walked in not because they were persuaded, but because they were summoned. It was marketing without marketing — a sensory invitation that felt natural rather than imposed.

The global fast food giant arrives

When McDonald’s entered the Philippine market in 1981 — opening its first store in Morayta, Manila — it did what it had done everywhere else. It brought with it the full force of American fast-food discipline: standardized systems, industrial efficiency, technology-driven operations, and scale. For most local competitors, this would have been an extinction-level event. For Jollibee, it became the catalyst for transformation.

What followed was one of the most underappreciated technology transfers in global consumer history. Jollibee studied McDonald’s with near-obsessive intensity, scrutinizing every word in the latter’s operations manual. This is something for conspiracy theorists to ponder: how did Jollibee get a glimpse of the global fast food giant’s earlier, long-standing operational principle for success — Quality, Service, Cleanliness, and Value (QSCV) — before other markets in the world did? 

McDonald’s ‘inspired’ Jollibee’s store layouts, service speed, kitchen workflows, staff uniforms, menu boards, queue management — nothing was left unexamined. The red-and-yellow palette, the standardized smiles, and the choreography behind the counter all carried unmistakable American DNA. It was as if Jollibee had stationed silent spies inside McDonald’s kitchens, absorbing every operational lesson available. (Shoutout to the late Bobby Sumulong for this!)

But imitation alone does not explain survival. Jollibee localized what McDonald’s standardized. It kept the systems but bent the product to Filipino taste. McDonald’s taught Jollibee how to run a global restaurant. Filipino consumers taught it what to sell. The result was not a clone, but a hybrid — American efficiency wrapped in Filipino emotion. That synthesis did more than defend Jollibee’s home turf. It propelled the company past its foreign rival domestically and transformed a defensive response into a platform for expansion.

The question now is whether that same formula can carry Jollibee through its most ambitious chapter yet: the global stage.

Can Jollibee conquer the world?

Jollibee’s international expansion has moved far beyond the early diaspora experiment. Today, its overseas footprint spans fried chicken, coffee, tea, and casual dining, with brands, such as The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, Compose Coffee, Milksha, and Tim Ho Wan, complementing its flagship business. The scale is no longer marginal. In the first nine months of 2025, Jollibee posted net income of just over ₱9 billion. System-wide sales outside the Philippines surged more than 30%, driven by aggressive coffee expansion and strong performance in North America and other international markets.

The operating momentum is real. Compose Coffee’s system-wide sales surged more than five-fold. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf posted double-digit revenue growth. International same-store sales growth reached double digits across major regions, including North America, Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and parts of Asia — an indication that customers are not simply sampling the brand, but returning. For the first time, international operations now account for roughly 40% of group earnings before EBITDA. Jollibee is no longer overly dependent on Philippine consumption cycles to defend profitability.

Beneath the growth narrative, however, lies a strategic tension investors can no longer afford to ignore.

In January 2026, Jollibee announced plans to separate its international operations into a new entity in preparation for a possible listing on a US stock exchange by 2027. Philippine operations would remain listed locally. The move effectively splits Jollibee into two companies: a domestic cash generator and a global growth vehicle. Management framed the decision as a way to unlock value the Philippine market could not fully recognize, allowing global investors to price Jollibee’s international ambitions directly.

The logic is sound. Analysts likened the move to San Miguel Corporation’s historic brewery spin-off — a restructuring that sharpened focus, improved comparability, and ultimately unlocked value. Shareholders are expected to receive shares in the international entity as a property dividend. The market’s initial reaction was enthusiastic, with Jollibee’s share price jumping sharply on the announcement.

Structure alone does not create value

Yet, here lies the uncomfortable truth: unlike McDonald’s, Jollibee’s global growth is still being financed like a restaurant company. Its balance sheet remains heavy with lease obligations. Capital intensity is high. Free cash flow, once adjusted for lease payments, is thinner and more volatile than headline earnings suggest. Some international assets shine; others falter. Tim Ho Wan’s system-wide sales contraction is a reminder that not every brand acquisition compounds smoothly, and not every global footprint translates into durable returns.

McDonald’s learned its most important lesson decades ago: global dominance is not built by running restaurants — it is built by franchising them. Today, more than 90% of McDonald’s stores are franchised. The company collects rent and royalties, not operational headaches. Its margins approach 50%. Its cash flows are predictable. Its valuation reflects that discipline.

Jollibee now stands at the same crossroads McDonald’s once faced.

If Jollibee continues expanding as a hands-on operator — leasing stores, absorbing labor and commodity volatility, and carrying operational risk — it may well become one of the most beloved fast-food brands in the world without ever becoming one of its most valuable. Growth, in that scenario, will impress consumers but disappoint capital.

The numbers already hint at this ceiling. Using the latest publicly available financials, Jollibee generates roughly ₱270 billion in consolidated revenues and about ₱45–47 billion in EBITDA. EBITDA margins sit in the high-teens, constrained not by demand but by a model that absorbs operating costs, lease payments, and reinvestment risk. Net debt, including lease liabilities, approaches ₱90–95 billion. The market responds rationally, valuing the company at roughly 9-11 times EBITDA and high-teens to low-20s earnings multiples.

What is becoming clearer in the latest investor disclosures is that Jollibee’s international growth is no longer driven merely by opening more stores. The numbers show something more durable at work. Total international system-wide sales growth — the combined sales of both company-owned and franchised restaurants — rose a robust 20%, while same-store sales growth, which measures performance at restaurants that have been open for at least a year, reached 12% across major overseas regions. North America, Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and Asia, along with Hong Kong and Macau, all posted double-digit same-store growth, a signal that customers are returning and spending more, not just sampling the brand for novelty.

That distinction matters. Growth fueled by existing stores is usually healthier and more profitable than growth driven purely by expansion. It suggests brand acceptance, pricing power, and operational momentum — attributes that allow scale to compound rather than strain the system. This performance also aligns with the strong finish Jollibee reported toward the end of 2025, with international markets increasingly carrying the sales narrative as the year closed.

What the numbers say

More telling still is the earnings mix. For the first nine months of 2025, roughly 60% of earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization came from the Philippines, while a meaningful 40% came from international operations, with overseas EBITDA up nearly 19% year-to-date. International is no longer a distant promise; it is already a pillar of profitability.

And yet, this is precisely where the valuation tension sharpens. Global popularity does not dictate valuation. Economics does. Without a structural pivot toward a capital-light, franchise-led model — closer to McDonald’s — Jollibee risks capping the very upside its international success is now beginning to unlock.

McDonald’s is not the world’s most valuable restaurant company because it sells the most burgers. It is valuable because it operates an asset-light, franchise-dominant system with structurally high margins, low reinvestment needs, and exceptional cash-flow quality. That economic structure commands mid-teens EBITDA multiples and premium earnings valuations.

For Jollibee, the challenge is not whether it can sell more chicken abroad because it already does. The challenge is whether it can convert operational momentum into durable, high-quality earnings.

If the international spin-off becomes a forcing mechanism — one that accelerates franchising, reduces direct operating exposure, prunes underperforming assets, and prioritizes free cash flow over footprint — Jollibee’s valuation ceiling changes materially. At that point, Wall Street would no longer see a Filipino restaurant chain expanding abroad. It would see a global consumer platform with emerging-market roots and developed-market discipline.

The real risk for Jollibee is not international failure. It is international success structured cheaply. Global business history is littered with brands that grew impressively but delivered mediocre returns because expansion was financed with leases and operational exposure rather than royalties and discipline. McDonald’s avoided that fate by slowing down, franchising aggressively, and optimizing for cash extraction instead of territorial dominance.

Jollibee does not need to become McDonald’s to succeed. But if it wants to be valued like McDonald’s, it must finish the journey it began in the 1980s — not just by copying the look and feel of the golden arches, but by embracing the economics beneath them. 

In consumer markets, it is emotion that first sets the stage and builds a brand. What sustains that brand and builds wealth is discipline. Jollibee’s first step has helped it master the first stage. Conquering the world stage depends entirely on how well Jollibee takes the next step. – Rappler.com

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