Master of entrepreneurship
Food retail honcho shows that failure is necessary to achieve success
Jorge Noel Y. Wienecke, the man behind the popular
Tokyo Tempura snack chain, is a bundle of energy. You can feel his passion like live sparks from a bonfire.
Observing and failing
The seeds of entrepreneurship, you could say, were sown in his younger days, driving for relatives, way before Grab and Uber — “so I could have money for dates with my girlfriend,” he says. He sold plastic trash bags branded “Basuwrap,” an anti-carnap device, and even Marikina shoes. He also ran a production studio, which he rented out. Unfortunately, it eventually burned down, an incident, however, that didn’t douse his enthusiasm. Every endeavor that didn’t fly furnished lessons that proved to be helpful later on. “During those days, there was no internet, no books on entrepreneurship, so one learned by doing, observing and failing,” he recalls. “In my 27 years of experience as an entrepreneur, I have tried many businesses — many of which failed. Believe me, I know.”
His book “Bounce — Principles and Lessons in Entrepreneurship,” as the title connotes, likens his odyssey to the proverbial “bouncing ball” with its many failed attempts, a big hit called Potato Corner, followed by lean years and then a rebound with his idea of “tempura for the masses.” In chronicling his ups and downs, he also recorded how he met each challenge.
There are several reasons for becoming an entrepreneur, which he summarizes into the 3 C’s: Chance, Circumstance and Crisis.
Chance is when you see an opportunity and you take advantage of it, according to Wieneke. Uber and Grab saw the opportunity of ride sharing and are now the biggest brand in transport with little capital expenditure. Circumstance is when you make use of your contacts and influences around you in starting and sustaining your business. And the final one is when difficulties become the motivating factor for success. Wieneke points to roadblocks as being his impetus. “I was an 18-year old with a pregnant wife, so I had to work while studying. Crisis and challenges are what make great entrepreneurs, as shown by tycoons John Gokongwei and Henry Sy, who both encountered many hardships before building URC (Universal Robina Corp.) and SM Investments Corp. (to the conglomerates they are today).”
Potato power
Wieneke’s first sight of glory was Potato Corner, his maiden foray in food retailing and brand recognition. It started when he worked as casting director at Lintas ad agency where he met Ricky Montelibano, a talent for a Close-Up toothpaste TV commercial. While chatting in between breaks, he discovered that Montelibano was into selling flavoured popcorn. A week later, the “Eureka moment” happened at a mall, when he saw kids begging their parents to buy them French fries from a popular fast-food chain. The idea popped in his head: why not flavored popcorn (Montelibano’s) and French fries sold in one kiosk?
During those days, there was no internet, no books on entrepreneurship, so one learned by doing, observing and failing. In my 27 years of experience as an entrepreneur, I have tried many businesses, many of which failed.”
Fired up, he broached his brainchild to his best friend Danny Bermejo, who jumped in immediately, as did Montelibano. The only hitch was they were all newbies at operations. Things fell into place when they met Joe Magsaysay or “JoMag,” a technical consultant with vast knowhow in fast food. The four men were all young husbands, without money or resources, each with a different expertise, but the same hunger for success. They became partners, Wieneke recalls, in an exercise that he liked “to taking an MBA.”
During the years of the startup, he narrates, there were no books or courses on how to be an entrepreneur, and hits and misses were par for course. However, they got lucky through his father-in-law, Juan Bautista, who ran an import export concern. He helped link the boys with the biggest importer of French fries in the country. Bermejo created the aluminium food cart, while Ricky’s supplier produced the flavors. Magsaysay guided the team with valuable nuggets of wisdom in running an enterprise. Potato Corner took off on Oct. 16, 1992. “I was ready to just make P2,000 in sales that day, but we went home with more than P10,000,” Wieneke exults. “The sight of long queues, overheating fryers, and the wads of peso bills will always be in my heart — it was a dream come true!”
After a 13- year run, circumstances changed with the deaths of Wieneke’s mother Ida Fores Ycasiano and his buddy and partner Bermejo. Devastated, Wieneke decided to sell his shares in Potato Corner and walk away from the business. Subsequent food concepts, which he came up with, didn’t pass muster with the market and failed. With a growing family, he changed focus and became a consultant. While this brought food to the table, he missed the action of being an entrepreneur. Meanwhile, Potato Corner had moved on spectacularly without its founder, expanding to some 100 stores nationwide and evolving into an international brand.
Wieneke could not help but regret that he had sold his shares in Potato Corner. He remembers being cut to the heart, overhearing his son say: “Bakitbinenta
ni Dad ang shares nya?” (“Why did Dad sell his shares?”). But instead of sinking into self-pity, he became even more determined to make a comeback.
New beginnings
As if Fate had evesdropped on Wieneke, a friend rang up inquiring if there was a new concept he was toying with, because he wanted a piece of the action. Boosted by his friend’s interest, he came up with the angle of making tempura — that iconic Japanese appetizer of seafood and vegetables battered and deep fried — more budget friendly. His concept was cleverly captured in the slogan “Murang Tempura. Tokyo Tempura” (“Affordable Tempura. Tokyo Tempura.”)
The first Tokyo Tempura started seriously frying in Sta. Lucia Mall, Cainta to lukewarm reception. “We needed to improve the product, and we focused on product development,” Wienneke reveals. They opened another outlet, but sales were sluggish. An inner voice kept egging Wieneke, saying: “Don’t give up!” Shortly after, the action picked up and Wieneke attracted some franchisees. But the path to stability had some way to go. In
What’s great is that I feel my mission has evolved from creating a profitable business to changing people’s lives by teaching them how to become entrepreneurs. It makes me happy to see my franchisees and employees achieving their dreams…”
the first year, Tokyo tempura had 15 outlets, but in the following years, 10 were shut down. That marked another low point, which didn’t last long due to an overseas Filipino worker (OFW), who was convinced that a Glorieta Park Square location would help the brand score big. He was right, and the rest as they love to say “is history.”
Wieneke, meanwhile, was doing what he is supremely good at — devising ways to attract customers to try his product. One was to offer “Unli-Tempura,” which he did in a Capitolyo, Pasig City food park. With shrimps (one of tempura’s main ingredients) a pricey commodity, foodies flocked to a place that was offering the delicacy in abundant amounts. It was an audacious idea, but it was not sustainable. The next step was a franchise in Marikina’s bustling Lilac Food Street. This is where the story gets exciting: a food blogger wrote about “Tokyo Tempura, Murang Tempura,” creating immeasurable buzz and hype. By the following day, a Thursday, long queues were seen; on Friday, GMA 7 featured the outlet in one of their shows. By the weekend, the baranggay
tanod (barangay police force) had to be called in to manage the crowds.
By this time, his partner decided to sell his shares, making Wieneke the sole owner of the business. His wife Jenny Bautista, formerly general manager of FCB (Foote, Cone & Belding) and new business director of Publicis Manila, decided to retire from the advertising trade and join Tokyo Tempura. His sons, Mikey and Justin, also signed up, now making Tokyo Tempura in effect a “family business.”
Fulfillment achieved
Over the past five years, Tokyo Tempura has grown to over 100 stores, which makes Wieneke a deeply fulfilled person. “What’s great is that I feel my mission has evolved from creating a profitable business to changing people’s lives by teaching them how to become entrepreneurs. It makes me happy to see my franchisees and employees achieving their dreams, buying their own family home, sending their kids to good schools and being financially independent.”
In his book, Jorge attributes Tokyo Tempura’s success to the company culture of generosity. “Even when we were struggling, we still gave out franchises with no franchise fees, and we give our employees free lunch every working day.” And busy as he is juggling family time and the business, he unfailingly mentors and helps start-up entrepreneurs through involvement like being an Angelpreneur for Go Negosyo and launching Kalye Negosyo.
Toward the end of the interview, Wieneke surprised Boardroom Watch, saying: “As an entrepreneur I don’t want to be a tycoon. My dream is to help as many Filipinos as I can because I have been so blessed by Him.”
Call his mission “messianic” or dub it “idealistic,” Jorge Noel Y. Wieneke vows to turn more young Juans (and Juanas) into outstanding professionals like him. There just no stopping this master of entrepreneurship.