The story of how a local pizza franchise used good ol’ customer service and intuitive social media smarts to compete in Cornwall’s tough pizza market.
On Christmas Day 2016, Mayuran Mano posted on the page for “Restaurant Reviews in Cornwall, Ontario”, a Facegroup group with 5,000+ members with strong tastes and even stronger opinions. His message wasn’t long but he wished everyone a happy holiday and reminded them that 241 Pizza would be open from 11am to 3am. He signed off with this line: “If you’re short of [sic] money or have no money, please walk in for free food.” Though nobody probably realized it at the time, Mano had extended this generous offer to those in need every year for the past 15 years.
Where it all began In the early 1990s, when he was seven years old, Mano immigrated to Canada from Point Pedro, Sri Lanka, the most northernmost point in the country. He left behind a civil war that ravaged his native country.
“25 years ago all I had was a body with a soul and nowhere to go. life changed when my parents decided to send me to Canada, A great country with people who welcomed me and gave me every opportunity to succeed in life. Now I have everything a man can dream for.”
-MAYURAN MANO, FACEBOOK POST
OCTOBER 9, 2017
In 1996, he started Grade 9 at CCVS. Aside from the regular high school shenanigans every teenage boy encounters, he fondly remembers that 241 Pizza, corner of Sydney and 9th, figured greatly in his teenage years.
“We were there all the time,” he says. “Two slices and a pop for $2.50!” he says. “You can’t beat that!” (By many accounts, anyone growing up in Cornwall in the 1990s shared the same enthusiasm for the joint.)
When he transferred to General Vanier High School, he met his wife, Vita. They became an item and married soon after graduating in 2000. Though the newlyweds both wanted to attend St. Lawrence College, money was tight so only Vita was able to enroll in the Business Administration program. To keep them afloat, Mano worked as a dishwasher at Nickels.
Vita finished her studies and eventually became an accountant, while Mano worked his way into saving a nest egg that eventually allowed him to buy the haunt that figured so prominently in his teenage years. The franchise, first opened in 1992, transferred ownership to Mano in 2004. The father of two—a boy, Mathusahan, 12 and a girl, Majuri, 14—is deeply grateful for his fateful rise to success.
“I came from nothing and now I feel so lucky,” he says.
The Social Scene
Mano has consistently posted on Facebook (both on the 241 Pizza business page and his personal account which remains open for all to see). His sincerity is striking. He is quick to apologize for downed online ordering systems, the rare occasion when customers aren’t pleased with the service, or any mistakes perceived or real. He seems on a quest to make things right. And he shows a tremendous concern for others which has helped build his business with loyal fans. The Facebook testaments are proof:
“Just wanted to let you know you’re an awesome owner man! I was getting pizza off you since I was 8 yrs old!”
“Had 241 tonight. Great service and a nice chat. Thanks Mano. Keep doing what you do, man.”
“Thank you Mayuran Mano for being so wonderful to your customers.”
Building the Biz
In a town where classic Montreal-style pizza is revered, pizza joints are legendary, and new restaurants are offering oven-fired options, Mano has managed to take a chain and build an impressive following. Compared to the thick-crusted, sauce-laden, 2-inch-pepperoni-and-cheese topped ‘zas from the classic restaurants (like Louis’, North End, Riverside, Olympic and Cornwall BBQ), or the delightfully charred pies from Schnitzel’s or Esca, 241’s items don’t exactly rise above the rest. But they sell consistently because they’re affordable, quick and consistent. But more than that, Mano’s formula for success is solid: Keep positive. Always try to be better. Build and tend to your social media audience with care. And innovate. (Late last summer, he started offering a crustless Keto pizza which sold 100 units in the first two days.)
Making Moves
Earlier this year, to the surprise of many, Mano purchased 241’s next door neighbour, The Glengarrian Pub and Restaurant.
“I know nothing about bars, I mean I don’t even drink,” he admits. “But once my wife got a look at the books, we realized this was a good opportunity for us and our family.”
Some of the regulars grumbled and expressed skepticism. They worried that their beloved institution would decline. But Mano brought his brand of conviviality to his latest venture, and now, six months in, is quick to acknowledge the people who have stayed the course with the new management.
“The amount of appreciation we get from you is priceless and we will continue to do thing to make The Glen visit your best experience,” he said in a recent Facebook post. He went on to thank each and every member of the staff, who he consider his family. “Without you, we wouldn’t be where we are now.”
Onward and Upward
Mano says he has no intentions of rushing to build an empire of properties but he will continue to look for good opportunities to better his lot.
No matter what allegiance you have pledged to your favourite pizza parlour (or Scottish pub, for that matter), it would be hard not to cheer and support for Mano. After all, everyone likes an underdog.
