When Malou Fores finally decided to open a restaurant, it was not because she felt fully ready. It was because the timing in her life had changed—and the idea she had been sitting on for years finally felt possible.
That moment came when her role at home began to ease.
“When my son was already in middle school, and he was saying, ‘Mom, you don’t have to do this,’ parang he wanted his own life in school.”
For Malou, it marked a shift.
“I didn’t have to volunteer to help out, kasi parang he wanted his own space.”
With more time on her hands, she began to consider something she had never seriously pursued before.
“So I said, ‘Ah, now I don’t have to be a full-time mom, right?’”
The thought came quietly, without pressure.
“So I said, ‘Okay, maybe I’ll try it now.’”
A small start with modest expectations
In 2007, Malou opened her first restaurant in Serendra.
“In 2007, I decided to open a restaurant in Serendra, which became my first Mamou.”
From the beginning, expectations were intentionally limited.
“That was my first restaurant.”
Her husband, Oye Fores, recalls how cautiously they approached the decision.
“So it started that way—this one restaurant in Serendra, a 97-square-meter space with 60 seats, and a maximum of 20 employees, 23 including Malou.”
The plan was never to build a restaurant empire.
“Our initial business plan was really for a two-year project, with an ROI expected in that timeframe.”
For Oye, the idea was to let Malou try something she had always wanted to do—then move on.
“So I said, let’s do it, get it out of your system, and after a couple of years, you’ll be happy, and then we can move on and go back to our old life.”
They were also realistic about the lifestyle trade-offs.
“Actually, we thought it would be an issue because it would sort of curb our lifestyle.”
Travel had been a big part of their lives.
“We used to travel a lot back in the day.”
And running a restaurant would change that.
“We knew that if she started a restaurant, it would be a 24/7 business, right?”
There would be no easy exits.
“It’s not something where you can just clock out at 5 p.m. or take off for a month or two on vacation, especially not in the beginning.”
Betting on themselves
When it came to funding Mamou, Malou was firm about one thing.
“We actually started with our own money.”
Outside capital was an option—but one she chose to avoid.
“People wanted to invest, but I told Oye, ‘No, let’s just keep it to ourselves,’ which I’m happy about.”
The decision came with real sacrifice.
“When we started, we scraped together every penny we had.”
Even that wasn’t enough.
“In fact, we were short on money and even borrowed from our son’s savings.”
The risk was personal, financial, and emotional. There were no guarantees.
An unexpected outcome
Despite the modest expectations and financial strain, the business moved faster than Malou anticipated.
“The business became quite successful.”
What surprised her most was how quickly Mamou stabilized.
“We were profitable in like six months.”
The result caught her off guard.
“So I, myself, was shocked.”
She had prepared for a much longer wait.
“I thought it would take four years.”
The numbers forced a reassessment.
“When we saw that it was something quite promising, we decided to keep going.”
What began as a two-year experiment turned into a long-term commitment. Seventeen years later, Mamou continues to operate—not because it was planned that way, but because it earned the right to continue.
For Malou Fores, Mamou was never meant to be proof of ambition. It was a test—of timing, of discipline, and of whether something born at home could survive in the real world.
Sometimes, the most enduring businesses begin with the smallest expectations. And sometimes, saying “let’s just try” is enough to change everything.
This article includes quotes from an interview originally published by Esquire Philippines, authored by Henry Ong.
