The son of Italian parents who immigrated to Toronto from Sicily in the 1950s, Frank D’Angelo’s father made a modest living by running a driving school and operating a small cheese company. But D’Angelo junior always craved bigger and better things.
In 1984, at the age of 26, he decided to get into the canned apple juice business and, unlike the established brands, he targeted independent, ethnic supermarkets. Prior to shipping a single can of juice, D’Angelo convinced Dan Iannuzzi-a leader in multicultural media who founded Toronto’s Channel 47 CFMT-TV (today’s OMNI), and who took an immediate liking to the scrappy entrepreneur-to allow him to buy airtime on credit. D’Angelo took to the airwaves in a TV ad crooning-Sinatra-like-about his non-existent apple juice. (D’Angelo is an aspiring singer. The videos from his music CDs-featuring the Steelback Two Four Band-benefiting breast cancer research and victims of Hurricane Katrina can be seen at steelbackbrewery.com).
It was a risky marketing gambit, but D’Angelo believed it was prudent to put the apple cart before the horse, in this instance, simply to harness the potential selling power that comes with brand awareness. “TV is the most powerful aphrodisiac,” he says. “TV is everything. Without TV, you are fucking nothing.”
D’Angelo needed a delivery truck, but he had barely enough funds to purchase a used vehicle. Luckily, the late Al Paladini, an Ontario cabinet minister and then owner of Pine Tree Ford Lincoln, took a shine to him.
“Al basically gave me the truck and said, ‘When you start making money, then you pay me,’ ” says D’Angelo.
In the early days, that Ford F-600 truck didn’t merely schlep cases of apple juice from Leamington, Ont. to Toronto, it also served as his living quarters.
“I slept in that truck,” recalls D’Angelo. “And the front cab was my office. I had one of those big, old manual Olivetti typewriters with the ‘e’ key missing… and it had one of those big carriage returns. A couple of times, I almost knocked one of my testicles off.”
Potential workplace injuries aside, D’Angelo never despaired. Perhaps his single biggest break came while making a delivery to a grocery store on Toronto’s St. Clair Avenue. A big, blue Lincoln was blocking D’Angelo’s truck, so the juice entrepreneur leaned on the horn for several seconds. The driver of the Lincoln got out, made a beeline toward D’Angelo, and asked him whether he was the guy in the apple juice ads.
D’Angelo responded in the affirmative and the stranger- who turned out to be David Stewart, then president of Loblaw Cos.-gave him his business card. Stewart was impressed that D’Angelo not only sang about his apple juice, but also busted his butt delivering the stuff. D’Angelo Brands Apple Juice soon found a place on Loblaws store shelves.
In his first year of business-thanks to a combination of sheer luck, serendipity and tireless cold calling (D’Angelo says it’s a “fucking miracle” if he gets four hours sleep in a night)-D’Angelo Brands racked up sales of $2 million.
D’Angelo has diversified since the 1980s into dry pastas, sauces, canned vegetables and edible oils. D’Angelo’s Mississauga, Ont. plant also co-packs for other marketers, such as Arizona Iced Tea.
That’s not to say D’Angelo has never sampled the bitter taste of failure. In 1985, he was one of the first to bring balsamic vinegar to Canada and it almost ruined him. “People weren’t used to vinegar that tasted sweet. Now look at all the different brands (of balsamic vinegar) out there. We were ahead of our time.”
The following year he imported a spicy olive oil, convinced it would be a home run for his company. “It was the most sexy … mmm … the taste drove you nuts,” he says. “But we lost our shirts again.”
