The New Lawn, home of Forest Green Rovers, is not your average professional football stadium. It’s not in the heart of a post-industrial town or city but perched on a hill with views across the Cotswolds. Nailsworth, where it is based, is the smallest town to have hosted an English football league club.
The advertising hoardings are also a little different. Oatly and Quorn aren’t necessarily your typical sponsors but Forest Green are the world’s first vegan football club. At the first home game of the season, against Altrincham, in late August, fans are tucking into classic fare: pies, burgers, pasties, with not a meat filling in sight. “It’s really good,” says Dave Adams, a Nottingham Forest season ticket holder who describes Rovers as his “second club”, of his pasty. “I’m not vegan, mind, but I’ve eaten nothing I haven’t liked.”
Long-time fan David Fowles, attending with his father John, is effusive as he waits for a butter bean tikka masala. “Before, the food was nothing special. I’m flexitarian, and it’s changed how I eat at home.”
The food is even bringing in fans. Simon Hacker started coming here with his son, Rupert, in 2021. As a vegan, the club’s ethos intrigued him. “I couldn’t follow another team. My son eats meat and cringes when I go to counters at away games and say: ‘You couldn’t put on a vegan Pukka pie?’”
Not everyone is so enamoured. Rickson Parmeggiani, an Argentinian who lives in Altrincham and follows its team home and away, is halfway through a burger. A self-confessed meat lover, he admits “it’s probably better, quality-wise” than the burgers served at most grounds. But he’d prefer something not mimicking meat, such as a falafel wrap, and reckons most fellow Altrincham fans would eat elsewhere before the game. Indeed, few are spotted with food.
“People said it would kill the club,” says Forest Green owner Dale Vince of the shift. “I think our crowds quadrupled in size, and our food sales went up 10-fold. People are used to hearty, calorific foods. We make great versions of them.” Away fans routinely taunt the club – one brought meat and asked the bar to cook it – but it’s always friendly banter, says Vince.
Football food is changing. Gone are the days of lukewarm pies with indeterminate fillings. A vegan club may be extreme (although most are expanding their plant-based offerings) but from the Premier League to the amateur game, food is shifting from being mere fuel. Those watching the Euros this summer may have noticed culinary-themed rivalry, banners proclaiming “Belgian fries better than French fries”, or “tapas better than pasta”. Inane taunts, but a symbol of food’s increasing prominence. Last season, Tottenham Hotspur even displayed a fried chicken artwork in their ground, a celebration of “match day ritual” by artist and Spurs fan Jack Hirons.
This growing association is partly down to Footy Scran. Launched in 2020, the social media account, with almost 600,000 followers on X, posts pictures of stadium food from around the world, with followers rating it “scran” – good – or “no scran”. It might be a picture of an appetising pulled pork and chips at Lewes FC or a hideous-looking cheeseburger at Real Madrid.
I’ve been a regular at Arsenal for 20 years, during which time the football has fluctuated but the food has remained resolutely drab. A chicken burger was one of the worst things I’ve put in my mouth; pizza wasn’t much better. I’d rather get jerk chicken or falafel from the excellent places nearby.
But Premier League grounds are changing. In a commercial arms race, enticing catering makes sense. Leading the charge are Arsenal’s rivals, Spurs. Christopher Lee, Europe and Middle East managing director of stadium designers Populous, worked on both clubs’ new grounds. Opened 15 years later than the Emirates, the Tottenham Hotspur stadium is ahead when it comes to catering, admits Lee, an Arsenal fan.
“The food at Tottenham is front and centre,” says Lee. This demonstrates how seriously clubs are now taking food compared with 20 years ago. The Market Place, a huge street food area complete with craft brewery, Europe’s longest bar and, unusually for football, pies handmade in the ground, keeps people there longer – and consuming more. Average spend per head has gone from £2.50 to £15, says Lee, thanks to the likes of Korean chicken sandwiches and lemon sole goujons.
Catering company Levy is in charge of feeding football fans at clubs including Spurs and Leicester as well as tennis fans at Wimbledon, and other sporting events. “We’ve been on a mission to raise the standards of food and drink in stadiums,” says Jon Davies, chief executive of Levy UK + Ireland. It’s a huge challenge. Fans typically arrive close to kick-off and have 15 minutes at half time – not much time for a pint, some food and possibly a long toilet queue.
When Davies started in the business 15 years ago (for a different company), food was “very basic”. There were always pies. Hot dogs and burgers were left in bains-marie, with Bovril added to the water to boost the beefiness. Now armed with 400 full-time chefs and up to 2,000 cooks across its grounds on any given match day, Davies says Levy is raising the bar.
This transformation is most stark in newer stadiums. Brentford’s Gtech Community Stadium opened in 2020, and it’s a world away from most grounds I’ve visited. Food can be ordered from machines to speed things up and menus display carbon footprints. Decent options are offered to away fans (some stadiums seem to treat their visitors almost with contempt).
Among the elevated pizzas and hot dogs, it is the club’s commitment to local businesses that stands out. There are curries, including a decent butter chicken by Dipna Anand, co-owner of Brilliant Restaurant in nearby Southall, and a stall selling samosas. For Davies, football is simply following society. Whether at a service station or on the high street, we expect better quality.
James Buckley, Levy’s director of culinary, admits it has sometimes been a challenge. At Brentford’s previous stadium fans were used to paying a certain price for burgers. Now the buns are made with regenerative Wildfarmed flour and, inevitably, this costs more. Football fans can be creatures of habit so when Brentford moved stadium, two kiosks retained the old products, according to Buckley. “I think they only lasted a couple of months. We’re not reinventing the wheel, we’re just doing it better.”
The Premier League may be the richest in the world but it’s not necessarily where the best food is found. After two brief periods in the top flight, Hull City have been confined to the Championship since 2016, but the club recently won an award for its catering. Walking to the MKM Stadium from the city centre, it’s remarkable how few food vendors there are; perhaps it’s because the food inside is so good?
“There’s long been a view that fans are a captive market,” says Henry Crane, deputy general manager responsible for Hull’s food concourse. “I never really looked at it like that.” Crane has taken a keen interest in catering since arriving 12 years ago, when the food was “pretty average. The first thing we looked to change was a better pie, a better hot dog, a better burger.” The real catalyst was a mundane piece of equipment: “We got some fryers installed. After that it really changed dramatically.”
The food isn’t always the healthy option – match day food isn’t supposed to be. But, from pulled pork on chips with American chip spice (a beloved local condiment) to butter chicken skewers and the crowd favourite, katsu curry, it tastes good – and recently cooked, thanks to those fryers. It’s perfect with a pint. There are decent doner kebabs, a nod to Acun Ilicali, Hull’s Turkish owner, and puddings include apple crumble in colder months.
“Away fans all say it’s the best,” says Hull supporter Kelvin Mawer as he samples barbecue chicken with fries. “Before, it was really dire. I’ve tried food at most grounds and nowhere is nearly as good.”
David Spurgeon is halfway through butter chicken skewers. “It’s amazing; cracking food for football,” he says. The menu regularly changes, and “it’s the best food in the league, by far”, adds his friend Nigel Benton.
Fans are spending more than twice as much as before, says Crane, who attributes much of the success to Footy Scran (sales rise after a post featuring Hull’s wares) and the growing appeal of street food markets, a direct inspiration here.
Travelling down the leagues the quality of the football rapidly deteriorates. But the food? Not necessarily. Tooting & Mitcham in south-west London play in the Combined Counties League, the ninth division of English football. It’s a world away from the Premier League. Fans know players personally and mingle with opposition supporters. Here, the food is often more homely. The Shak, a small hut in a corner of the ground, has emerged as one of Footy Scran’s most popular locations and pictures of its jerk chicken routinely do the rounds.
For the Jersey Bulls fans who’ve made the long journey from the Channel Island for a mid-April match, a sense of novelty is apparent. Two, who give their names as Noz and Mark, order jerk chicken with rice and peas. How’s the food at Jersey, I ask. “Shit. Crappy burgers,” says Noz. Returning 10 minutes later, Mark tells Carlton Hunter, the Shak’s proprietor, it’s “the best food I’ve had, and I’ve been to over 40 grounds”. Noz clearly agrees: “10/10, get yourself a restaurant.”
The Hunters took over the business a year ago and while it’s also open to the public, it’s closely connected to the club. “Dad’s from Tooting, I’m from Streatham,” says Luke Hunter, Carlton’s son. “Match days are nice, it’sgreat to have appreciation from the fans. You can see their plates are empty. One of the stewards said they’d never had curry goat, now they come back every week for it. We’re bringing football and food together.”
Claims that football is losing its soul are hardly new, especially when it comes to the Premier League. Players earn too much, the atmosphere is sanitised and clubs are moving from their traditional homes to gleaming new stadiums. The food is another sign of change. “There’s always the lone voice in the wilderness who thinks it should only ever be a pie and a Bovril,” says Crane. “But it’s overwhelmingly positive.”
For Lee, “there’s always a place for a pie and a pint”, and indeed at Hull, Brentford and elsewhere, these staples remain, just in improved form. One way to keep things authentic, adds Davies, is with regional differences: scotch pie in Scotland, using Welsh lamb in Wales, or Henderson’s relish on sausage rolls in Sheffield.
Even at Arsenal things are looking up. This season, the club has joined forced with Willy’s Pies, a shop from nearby Hackney. At my first home game of the season I head straight to the kiosk and order a beef mince and Westcombe cheddar pie – a reference toan artisan cheese once unimaginable at football. The pie is excellent, certainly an upgrade on previous pies, with flaky and crisp pastry, tender meat and earthy cheese. It’s recognisably football food, just better.
