Most businesses don’t start with a grand vision. Sometimes, they start with a routine.
For Teresita Ngan Tian, co-founder of Lots’a Pizza, that routine was simple: getting picked up after work.
“The very first job we had was with SGV as auditors,” Teresita says. “Both of us were accountants. That’s where we met. We got married months before we left SGV. We did not want to work in the same firm as husband and wife.”
After SGV, Teresita worked at what is now San Beda University, while her husband Ed took a job in real estate. On Saturdays, Teresita handled financial work for the Benedictine community in San Beda Mendiola. And every so often, Ed would come by to fetch her.
One afternoon, while waiting outside a board meeting, Ed did what many people do when they’re killing time—he looked around.
That moment changed everything.
“I was going around Mendiola,” Ed recalls. “It was three o’clock in the afternoon and you could see students from San Beda, Holy Spirit, Central Escolar, St. Jude—they were all converging in the area. It was full of students.”
He didn’t see a campus. He saw foot traffic.
“It was a gold mine,” he says. “I already saw the idea of putting up a stall to sell anything—siopao, candy, mga ganun.”
Seeing What Others Walk Past
Teresita, at first, wasn’t convinced.
“Sabi niya, ‘There’s a space there we could develop into a business,’” she recalls. “Sabi ko, ‘Mahirap.’ I was employed kasi. There would be some conflicts of interest. Ayoko, ayoko.”
But Ed kept pointing it out—every pickup, every visit.
“Every time I picked her up, I said, ‘The opportunity is there,’” he says. “Because we don’t lose anything, let’s just try and open up the idea.”
The difference wasn’t ambition. It was attention.
They weren’t dreaming of entrepreneurship. They were noticing patterns—crowds at the same time, in the same place, every day.
When Opportunity Meets Timing
At the same time, the Benedictine community faced a problem. A group of 35 postulants was about to begin studies for the priesthood—and funding was tight.
“They asked me, being in charge of finance, to look for possible funding,” Teresita says.
That’s when observation met necessity.
“When this idea came up, we brought the idea of leasing the space,” she explains. “I told them this could possibly be the answer to the problem about financing because we are going to rent the space.”
Being accountants helped—but not in the way people usually imagine.
“Since we were both accountants, we presented a feasibility study,” Teresita says. “We showed the revenue stream for the next five years. They agreed that it was good enough to finance the postulants.”
The opportunity didn’t just make sense emotionally. It made sense on paper.
Starting Small—and Uncertain
They leased about 75 square meters along Mendiola Street and divided it into small stalls.
“Sabi ko, I will just operate one stall and the rest sublease ko na lang,” Teresita says.
But reality had other plans.
“At that time, walang takers,” she says. “So sabi ko, maraming bakante—lagyan na lang natin ng burger stall and then some sandwiches.”
What started as a single idea quickly turned into improvisation.
“Nag-expand ako ng products kasi I have to fill up the store,” she says. “Meron na kaming siopao, sandwich, burger.”
Still, something was missing.
Listening to the Crowd
The next breakthrough didn’t come from market reports or strategy sessions. It came from customers.
“Sabi ng mga bata, yung mga estudyante, ‘Kuya, wala ba kayong mga pizza naman para hindi naman nakakasawa,’” Teresita recalls.
Her response was honest.
“Sabi ko, ‘Oo nga, pizza no.’”
They didn’t know anything about pizza.
“Imagine, we didn’t know anything about it,” Teresita says. “I had to study how to make burger patties, how to make bread, and other elements like the crust we use here.”
She took short-term courses. They experimented with their baker.
“We asked our baker, ‘Kaya mo bang gumawa ng pizza bread?’ Sabi niya, ‘Kaya ko ‘yan,’” she says. “So nag-experiment siya ng mga flour.”
What mattered wasn’t expertise—it was willingness to learn.
Entrepreneurship Without the Label
Only later did they realize they were building something bigger.
“When we noticed that it was really a growing business, we tried to apply with other malls,” Teresita says.
That’s when another lesson surfaced.
“They asked, ‘What is your brand? What is your specific product?’” she says. “Generic yung store namin. Walang pangalan. We just sold everything.”
Observation had taken them this far. Focus would take them further.
The Lesson They Didn’t Plan to Learn
Looking back, Teresita doesn’t describe their journey as bold or visionary.
“We didn’t plan to be entrepreneurs,” she says. “We were just paying attention.”
Their story is a reminder that opportunity doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes, it waits quietly—on a street you pass every day, at a time you’ve learned to ignore.
Entrepreneurship, in their case, didn’t begin with intention.
It began with observation.
