I was in Fish Hoek the other day, walking through Valleyland—a small shopping complex with a mix of tenants, the kind of place that quietly tells you everything about the health of a local economy. What caught my attention wasn’t the pizza place or the chicken joint—both still chugging along—but a retail outlet for Mantelli’s Biscuits. It was closing down. Signage in the window. Discounted biscuits. And a question in my mind.
What makes forward integration work—or fail—for a manufacturer?
Mantelli’s is a name I first encountered in the air. Their biscuits were served on a domestic airline, paired perfectly with a cup of coffee. Founded in 1988, the company produces biscuits, rusks, cookies, handmade shortbread, and cantucci. They supply supermarkets, hotels, and even hospitals—and they export.
Mantelli’s operates 18 privately-owned “Mantelli’s Direct” stores, mostly in the Western Cape. One less now.
Forward integration is seductive. For manufacturers, it’s a way to get closer to the customer—cut out the middleman, capture more margin, and control the branding and experience all the way to the final sale. But opening a retail outlet isn’t just plugging in a till and stacking shelves. It’s a completely different game—foot traffic, overheads, hiring, shrinkage, visual merchandising, pricing wars with the big chains next door. If you’re not nimble, if your range isn’t broad or distinctive enough, you’ll be outcompeted—quickly.
I’ve seen this up close. Years ago, I was involved in a forward integration experiment—running a small distribution outlet for a food manufacturer in Roodepoort. It was meant to test the waters of the “bottom-end” trade. We tried to make it work. But our product range couldn’t compete with the larger food wholesalers, and the plug was pulled. The margins weren’t worth the overhead. We learned a lot—mainly that having a good product doesn’t automatically mean you should be in retail.
I’m reminded too of Choices Cakes, Bakes and Gifts in Randridge Mall, Randburg—a small shop I like a lot. It isn’t run by a single manufacturer but instead brings in all kinds of locally made biscuits and cakes. The appeal? Homemade quality and a constantly changing mix. It doesn’t feel like a brand extension—it feels like a treasure hunt.
The “home industry” (tuisnywerheid) bakeries were everywhere once in Johannesburg and Pretoria, but shifting demographics and economic realities have closed many of them. There was an excellent home industry store in Northcliff. But the Northcliff main road—once part of a solid middle-market suburb—now looks a lot like Fish Hoek’s: tired, patched together, with a mix of small immigrant-run shops and dingy storefronts.
Still, the idea of forward integration will never go away—because it can work. It offers data, direct customer feedback, brand visibility, and better margins. But the cost of entry is high, and the risks are real.
In the end, it’s about fit. Just because you can open a store doesn’t mean you should. And sometimes, the best distribution strategy is to stay in your lane—while partnering with others who know how to sell.
