The burger joint that broke all the rules: what Five Guys can teach golf clubs about F&B excellence

Picture your typical golf club kitchen on a busy Sunday. The head chef is juggling three different roast meats, a selection of pub classics, today's specials, a children's menu, and whatever dietary requirements have just walked through the door.

Meanwhile, two counties over, another chef is doing one thing: making burgers. The same burgers. Every single time. And the business is worth billions.

That chef works for Five Guys. And their story might just revolutionise how you think about golf club F&B.

The choice that changed everything

In 1986, Jerry Murrell sat his four sons down with an ultimatum: "Go to college, or we start a burger business."

They chose burgers. But not the way everyone else was doing burgers.

While McDonald's chased speed and KFC chased variety, Five Guys chased one thing: being absolutely brilliant at a very simple offering. Jerry's philosophy was beautifully clear: "If you're going to sell burgers and fries, be the best at it."

Sound familiar? It should. Because every successful golf club F&B operation I've encountered follows the same principle: do fewer things, but do them better than anyone else.

The anti-menu approach

Walk into most golf clubs and you'll find menus that would make a department store envious. Traditional roasts, contemporary fusion, children's options, dietary alternatives, daily specials, seasonal offerings...

Now walk into Five Guys. Fifteen items. That's it.

Burgers, hot dogs, chips, drinks. No breakfast menu. No seasonal specials. No regional variations to please local tastes. They picked their lane twenty-five years ago and never looked back.

The result? Over 1,700 locations globally, built entirely on word-of-mouth marketing.

Compare that to golf clubs where the kitchen struggles to execute a dozen different cooking styles competently. What if your club became legendary for three things instead of adequate at thirty?

Quality as a system, not a person

Here's where most golf clubs get it wrong. We build our F&B reputation around individuals: the brilliant head chef, the charming restaurant manager who knows every member's preference.

Five Guys built theirs around systems.

Every burger uses fresh beef. Never frozen. Every batch of chips is cooked twice in peanut oil. Every bun follows the same egg-washed recipe. Tomatoes are only served when they're perfect; when they're not good enough, they're simply unavailable.

This isn't just attention to detail; it's systematic protection of quality. When your head chef goes on holiday, what happens to your Sunday roast? At Five Guys, the burger tastes exactly the same whether Jerry Murrell himself is cooking or it's a sixteen-year-old on their first shift.

That's the power of process over personality.

The golf club application

Imagine if your club sandwich was so consistently excellent that members brought guests specifically to try it. Imagine if your fish and chips were talked about in the clubhouse for all the right reasons. Imagine if your Sunday roast was so systematically perfect that it didn't matter who was working the pass.

This isn't fantasy. It's simply Five Guys thinking applied to golf club F&B.

Take their chip process: every potato is hand-cut, soaked, and cooked twice in peanut oil that costs significantly more than alternatives. No exceptions. No "temporary substitutions" when margins get tight.

Now imagine applying that same discipline to your signature dishes. Your club sandwich uses specific bread, specific preparation, specific presentation. Every time. Your Sunday roast follows exact timing, exact temperatures, exact resting periods. No chef interpretation. No "that's how we've always done it."

The marketing budget of zero

Perhaps most remarkably, Five Guys has never spent money on traditional advertising. No TV campaigns, no social media pushes, no discount vouchers.

Their growth strategy hinges on one principle: the food has to be good enough that people tell their friends.

When did you last hear a golf club member rave about the food to a prospective member? When did your F&B operation become a selling point rather than something you apologise for?

Five Guys proves that excellence is the only marketing that matters. And in golf clubs, where word travels fast and reputations stick, this matters even more.

Premium without apology

When Five Guys launched in the UK, they didn't adapt. No smaller portions for British tastes. No tea and biscuits. No "value meals" to compete with local chains.

They opened in Covent Garden with the same menu, same portions, same £12 burger price point. The message was clear: this is what we do. Take it or leave it.

Over 150 UK locations later, that confidence has been vindicated.

Golf clubs often suffer from a confidence crisis around F&B pricing. "Members won't pay restaurant prices." "It's just a golf club, not a proper restaurant." "We have to keep it affordable."

Five Guys suggests otherwise. If the quality justifies the price, if the experience matches the expectation, people will pay. Even golfers.

The compound effect of clarity

The Five Guys story isn't really about burgers. It's about clarity. It's about the courage to do fewer things exceptionally well rather than many things adequately.

Every decision they make asks the same question: "Does this make our burgers and chips better?" If not, it doesn't happen.

What if every decision in your golf club F&B operation asked: "Does this make our core offering better?" Would you still need that extensive daily specials board? Would you still try to serve both traditional British fare and contemporary fusion from the same kitchen?

Building your F&B empire

Jerry Murrell's sons had a choice between complexity and clarity. They chose clarity and built a global empire.

Your golf club has the same choice. You can continue chasing every food trend, trying to please every palate, building your operation around individual brilliance. Or you can follow the Five Guys playbook: identify what you do better than anyone else, systematise it ruthlessly, and build your reputation around unwavering consistency.

The clubs that thrive aren't the ones with the most extensive menus. They're the ones with the strongest foundations.

What if your club became the Five Guys of golf F&B? What if members chose your club partly because they knew the food would always be exceptional?

That's not a dream. That's a system.

Quick one — if you’ve not done this yet, my scorecard helps you spot gaps across guest experience, costs, and day-to-day ops. Takes a few minutes and you’ll get a proper report at the end.