You go to Tim Hortons for your daily caffeine fix. You don’t expect bougie opulence. You don’t question whether that yellow stain on the wall, uncomfortably close to your thigh, is merely some spilled coffee or another foreign substance.
The Canadian coffeehouse chain is, in short, reliable — if completely unremarkable. It’s the poster child of fast food mediocrity.
But that hasn’t stopped the Tim’s brand from exploding around the world. The company, which traces its roots to Hamilton, Ont., now boasts outposts in Europe, the Middle East and East Asia, including more than 300 locations in Saudi Arabia and roughly a thousand more in China.
As a Tim Hortons skeptic who’s followed this global expansion closely, I’ve been nagged by two questions: how did Tim’s manage to pull off this global expansion so successfully? And why are non-Canadians so willingly embracing this thoroughly unspectacular brand?
I tried to seek answers to these questions on a recent trip to Singapore last month. What I found both surprised and disgusted me — and also left me scratching my head.
The last time I was there, some two years ago, there were rumours that Tim’s was going to plant its flag in Southeast Asia. It finally did so in November 2023, opening its first location in Singapore.
Over the past year, the company has flourished in this island-nation, population six million, with a dozen locations and counting.
Marubeni, the Japanese trading company behind Tim Hortons’ foray into Southeast Asia, has ambitious plans. Its long-term goal is to have “hundreds” of Tim’s shops across the island within 10 years. It’s also introducing the brand to the neighbouring markets of Indonesia and Malaysia.
The Tim’s I step into is located on Orchard Road, Singapore’s upscale shopping district. It’s tastefully decorated with wooden accents and images that are distinctively Canadiana: a maple leaf, a handful of fir trees, a deer gazing wistfully into the distance.
You order on a touch-screen kiosk, then receive a pager. If you’re dining in, your food is served on ceramic dishes. The menu is extensive. You have your obligatory coffee and classic treats, but also local delights and a wide selection of desserts, including slices of cake. Beside the cashier, there’s a display of Tim’s branded merchandise: water bottles, mugs, maple-scented candles.
On first impressions alone, Tim Hortons has received a Southeast Asian glow-up. Dare I say it’s even luxurious.
Marubeni is clearly pitching Tim’s as a premium offering. This was no Tim Hortons; this was branded as “Tim’s Signature.”
They’re also charging upmarket prices. Timbits in Singapore, for instance, go for one dollar apiece. (Yes, my eyes are watering as much of yours.)
But those outrageous prices don’t seem to be turning away customers. If anything, this premium marketing is working. Tim’s exudes an aura of exoticism, mixing local flavours with Canadian ones. (The first item on the menu is a Double Double, while “maple-flavoured” treats fill out much of the rest of the offerings.)
My expectations were high. Singaporeans have discerning taste buds. If Tim’s can survive here, it’s ought to be doing something right. Right?
My first taste of Tim Hortons in Singapore is of a kaya-filled donut, a menu item specifically created for the local market and offered alongside more traditional fare. (The first item on the menu is a Double Double, while “maple-flavoured” treats fill out much of the rest of the offerings.) It’s a classic donut, filled with a custardy jam made of coconuts, eggs, sugar and pandan leaves, which gives it a dark green colour.
The donut was a passable, even somewhat good — light, fluffy, slightly chewy and slathered with copious amounts of filling. The rich kaya itself, with its distinctively nutty and grassy flavour from the pandan, is of high quality, though slightly gummy.
The same can’t be said about those one-dollar-apiece Timbits, nothing but disappointment at first bite. Marubeni said it has adjusted sugar levels down for some products, “tailored to local tastes.”
I think they forgot to mention that they’ve thrown out the recipes entirely. That’s the only thing that can explain what’s happened with these Timbits. They’re dry, overcooked and stale — think cardboard sprinkled with sugar.
As I sunk my teeth into these nuggets of dough, I was left with a lingering question: why? Of all the Canadian brands out there, why is the most unspectacular of them all carrying the flag abroad?
I get why Tim’s exists in Canada. It serves a distinct purpose: in our vast expanse of nothingness, when your options are Tim’s-branded sustenance or going hungry on an eight-hour road trip, you’ll take whatever Tim’s offers.
But Singapore — the street-food capital of the world — offers so much more. Chili crab. Hainanese chicken rice. Laksa.
So, why has Tim’s succeeded here? I’d chalk it up to a helluva good marketing campaign.
Will it last? Who knows. But, selfishly, I hope not.
The world needs more Canada, as the saying goes. But it certainly doesn’t need any more of our stale balls of dough and over-sweetened coffee.
