Before becoming the chief executive and cofounder of the globally recognized API company Kong, Augusto Marietti experienced a far humbler and more uncertain chapter of his entrepreneurial journey. Long before venture capitalists and industry partnerships entered the picture, he was a young Italian developer exchanging his culinary talents for a roof over his head. Former Uber CEO Travis Kalanick offered him a temporary stay on his couch in San Francisco, with a simple yet personal condition — in return for accommodation, Marietti was to prepare a plate of carbonara for Kalanick’s partner once every week. Recounting the story in conversation with a16z general partner Martin Casado on the firm’s podcast, Marietti spoke with candor and humor about the unconventional barter that became part of his origin story.

He described in intricate detail how, after months of relentless coding sessions in a modest garage in Milan, he and his cofounders decided to take one last desperate gamble. Using the final savings they possessed, they purchased plane tickets to the United States on tourist visas, determined to seek out investors who might believe in their fledgling project — at that time named Mashape. They arrived with a singular mindset: they had ninety days to secure funding or face failure. Marietti put it succinctly — if they could not raise money, they would return home to Italy with empty pockets and a dream left unfinished.

Reflecting later in an interview with Business Insider, Marietti remarked that entering the Silicon Valley ecosystem looks markedly different today from when he first tried to break into it. Mashape’s early breakthrough, he explained, came only after he managed to get his hands on a list of hundreds of email addresses from a Stanford entrepreneurial event. With persistence and a complete lack of connections, he cold-emailed every contact on that list, slowly opening doors to conversations with investors. In those days, the Valley’s networks were numerous yet more approachable — a complex web of overlapping communities where introductions often led to chance encounters, and those encounters could yield transformative opportunities. “There are countless interconnected circles of investors and founders,” he explained, “and once the momentum begins, the network effect is immense.”

While aspiring entrepreneurs may now find it easier to build initial prototypes or attract attention online, Marietti emphasized that he and his cofounder Marco Palladino had benefited from operating in a less saturated market. The relative scarcity of API-focused startups granted them space to experiment without immediate competitors breathing down their necks. Today, he observed, every promising niche is quickly crowded with contenders vying for the same sliver of opportunity. In modern Silicon Valley, he argued, scaling a genuine, lasting enterprise — one that grows beyond early hype — presents far greater challenges than simply launching a company. “It’s exponentially harder,” he told Business Insider, “to recruit exceptional talent, to find leaders capable of scaling teams, and to build a sustainable organization rather than a short-lived startup that burns bright before fading.”

His words carried the weight of experience earned through adversity. Just two weeks before their tourist visas were due to expire, Marietti and his team finally secured a crucial lifeline. An investment came from several early members of YouTube’s leadership team, including Kevin Donahue, the platform’s vice president of content. The deal, as Marietti recalled, was formalized inside Kalanick’s music rehearsal space — a so-called jam pad — located in San Francisco’s Castro neighborhood. Yet even this pivotal moment was not without tension. When the investors’ initial offer failed to meet Marietti’s expectations, his youthful confidence nearly cost him everything. “I told them, ‘No, this isn’t the deal I want,’ and I was ready to walk away,” he remembered. “I was only twenty, naive enough to assume they would call us back.” It was Kalanick who intervened, warning him that leaving the room could mean losing the investors permanently. In a gesture of tough mentorship, Kalanick even locked the door to prevent anyone from leaving until both sides reached an agreement. Eventually, a compromise was struck, and Mashape secured $51,000 in vital seed funding.

After briefly returning to Italy, Marietti and his cofounders reentered the United States on B1 visas — documents that permitted them to conduct business meetings but offered no formal employment or salaries. For more than a year, they survived on just $1,000 per month, a sum that was stretched to its absolute limits. To make ends meet, the company issued the founders promissory notes, effectively IOUs, with the hope that future success would one day repay their sacrifices. The three entrepreneurs shared a single mattress in a modest Airbnb apartment, conserving every dollar. Marietti’s chosen office was not a rented workspace but the corner of a local Starbucks, where the hum of espresso machines mixed with the tapping of keyboards as he worked to grow Mashape.

Their daily diet was a testament to frugality and endurance — rice, beans, pasta, and cans of tuna, chosen meticulously for their nutritional value and low cost. “We needed to find the right balance of carbohydrates and protein,” Marietti explained, “at the cheapest price possible.” They prepared tuna pasta so frequently that both he and Palladino later developed an aversion to it; even years after escaping that period of austerity, the mere sight of the dish evokes memories of their survivalist routine.

Reflecting on those austere beginnings, Marietti contrasted his experience with that of many contemporary startup founders, for whom “the grind” has become a fashionable badge of authenticity rather than an inescapable necessity. In his time, hard work was not an aesthetic — it was the only option. San Francisco, then still relatively affordable, offered a different environment, one in which ambition was not yet clouded by image or trend. “Now,” he observed, “it’s almost a lifestyle choice, a vibe. We worked that way purely out of necessity.” For him, the long nights coding in coffee shops, the cramped bedrooms, and the constant uncertainty were not symbolic gestures of hustle; they were the price of persistence.

Today, Marietti believes that entrepreneurs face an even steeper climb. The landscape has evolved into a hypercompetitive arena where dozens of startups may simultaneously pursue the same vision or product. To succeed, founders must summon not only the same level of discipline and work ethic that defined his early journey but perhaps an even greater intensity. “Modern founders,” he noted, “must operate with relentless focus, because there are fifty others trying to build what you’re building at any given moment. The only way forward is to grind, stay ahead, and make it happen.” In essence, his story serves as a reminder that while the trappings of startup culture may have changed, the fundamental truth of entrepreneurship remains timeless: real progress is forged not through trends or appearances but through unwavering effort, resilience, and the refusal to quit when the odds seem insurmountable.

Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/kong-ceo-sleeping-travis-kalanick-couch-startup-grind-2025-10