Mang Larry’s Isawan serves grilled snacks including tainga (pork ears), atay (chicken liver), balun-balunan (chicken gizzard), and the all-time Filipino favourite, isaw: chicken or pork intestines coiled onto skewers and grilled over a hot fire until they are charred and smoky. The famous roadside diner at the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman campus in Quezon City is so popular that queues grow from 10am to 10pm as people from all walks of life, including local celebrities and politicians, wait to enjoy Mang Larry’s isaw. Recalling his humble beginnings, Lauro “Mang Larry” Condencido Jnr says he started out with 40 Philippine pesos in 1984, then three times his monthly salary, which he used to buy nearly 3kg of intestines. “I didn’t have a stall back then,” he says. “I used an old baby stroller as a makeshift table. I carried it on the streets of UP and sold my sticks [skewers] to students. I was so happy, because on the first day I managed to double my capital.” From this tiny kitchen on wheels, Mang Larry’s Isawan went on to become one of the most iconic and best-loved local food chains in the Philippines. His company now has three branches and sales of about 4,000 skewers per day, and also supplies several food parks, raking in about one million pesos (US$20,000) a month. Condencido’s journey to wealth began when he ran away from home at the age of 13. He often went hungry while he worked as a caretaker, home help and newspaper delivery boy before making his fortune selling Filipino snacks. These days his company has reached cult status, with Mang Larry’s isaw printed on campus shirts and becoming the inspiration for a song by local rock band Eraserheads, while Condencido himself is featured in magazines and on television as a local entrepreneurial success story. Condencido grew up amid poverty. “I spent my childhood in a cramped farmhouse in Bicol [southeast of Manila] with my parents and my five siblings,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it. There were times when we couldn’t even afford one meal a day, so we just forced ourselves to sleep to avoid the constant pangs of hunger.” He ran away with barely any money. He had only finished primary school, so when he settled in Manila he could only get poorly paid jobs. Most of the time the salary wasn’t even enough to cover his expenses. Recalling his struggles, he says that when he worked as a dishwasher at the age of 19, he sometimes ate the food left on customers’ plates. He would also walk more than 10km from his house to his workplace to save on expenses. “My boss was very strict back then so we would often eat only after our shift finished at 9pm, and we would do it outside the canteen beside the garbage bin because we were not even allowed to eat in the kitchen,” he says. Condencido vividly remembers the hardships he endured. He scraped together every single peso he could to avoid a forced return to his poverty-stricken community. After a few years working in Manila, Condencido decided to pursue an education through the free technical vocational programme offered by Miriam Adult Education. Through this his life started to improve. “I was a janitor at a film-production company by day and a student at night,” he says, learning technical skills such as welding and carpentry, basic maths and science. I finished after five years and then I was promoted as a janitor supervisor, and then eventually became an assistant to the chemists and engineers in the quality control department of the same film production company.” By 1984, he was married with children, and was earning enough to keep a roof over his family’s head and put food on the table, but he realised he had to be more than an assistant if he wanted to give his family a better life. “The timing couldn’t have been better, because during this time I would pass by vendors selling isaw on my way home from work. I took it as a sign and then decided to sell my own isaw,” Condencido explains. “I saw this as a big opportunity, because Filipinos are very fond of it. I would not run out of customers because Filipinos are always hungry.” His isaw sold well and he was soon earning enough to quit his full-time job. Back then, isaw was only eaten by the working class and was thought to be unsafe. Animal organs, especially intestines, were usually discarded in case they harboured harmful bacteria. Condencido had the groundbreaking idea of revolutionising Filipino street food by making an “isaw for all classes”. “I wanted to change that thinking,” he says. “I made an isaw without the orange food colouring and preservatives, and ensured it was likeable by making sure it was safe to eat.” He did this by providing a sauce dispenser and individual plastic sauce cups, to replace the habit of communal dipping, to avoid contamination and the spread of disease. “I sold it at an affordable price so people like me could still eat it. I even developed my own signature sauce,” he says. “I did not go big on volume right away,” he adds. “I had to observe and manage the volume based on my daily sales, to avoid losses. I had to determine the volume that was manageable and then stop there to be safe.” Kish Aberin, 35, who studied at the university, says she always drops by Mang Larry’s whenever she is in the area because no other street food vendor sells isaw as clean and flavourful. I never treat my staff, or anyone, like I am above them,” he says. “I used to be like them, so I know how it feels like to be belittled or treated badly Lauro “Mang Larry” Condencido “The taste has not changed at all since I was a student,” she says. “It doesn’t have that funky smell and the size [of the isaw] is even bigger today.” Meanwhile, Andrei Guzman who comes from Davao, on the southern island of Mindanao, says the isaw is a delight, even without its signature tangy vinegar dip. “I have tried grilled giblets in our province, but after tasting Mang Larry’s isaw, I can say that it is definitely on the top of my list now,” the 20-year-old student says. Over time, Condencido has built on his success by expanding his business, slowly but surely. Although he is now famous in the Philippines, he declines to estimate his net worth and says he tries to live as modestly as he can. For Condencido, who has managed to send all his five children to school, the key to successfully managing a business – apart from maintaining product quality – is cultivating good relations with the employees. “I never treat my staff, or anyone, like I am above them,” he says. “I used to be like them, so I know how it feels like to be belittled or treated badly. I am glad that I did not have a running start on wealth, because if I had, I would have managed this business differently and it would have not succeeded.” Despite his success, Condencido continues to do the chores he did when his business was just starting out, such as going to the market every morning, taking orders from customers, and even grilling and cleaning. I made an isaw without the orange food colouring and preservatives, and ensured it was likeable by making sure it was safe to eat Lauro “Mang Larry” Condencido “I wake up every single day at 3am and go to the market,” he says. “I think I have only been absent from work less than three months since I started my isawan in 1984. It’s only during emergencies that I am not at work.” Condencido believes there is no limit to what people can achieve with hard work, vision and faith. In the future, he plans to open his own restaurant. “Once you stop expanding, so does your success,” he says. “I never thought I’d be in this place, but God steered me onto this path and I am beyond thankful for everything.”