Born to a Mexican mom and Venezuelan dad, chef Annisha Marccel Garcia grew up in Tijuana; lived in Argentina, Spain and San Diego; before settling in New York City. Her newly opened restaurant in the Lower East Side, Son Del North, reflects ties to her Latin roots and serves up tasty burritos with no rice, just beans.

Annisha spent the last eight years in New York, slowly forging her way into becoming the entrepreneur she is today. Her journey hasn’t always been the easiest since female chefs have an added pressure to prove themselves in the kitchen; she encountered toxic environments under male bosses at a number of high-end restaurants. In response, she embraced a philosophy of freely trusting others, while also knowing how to bounce back if they fail expectations.

She began as a line cook at a restaurant in the West Village where diners were asked what flavors they enjoyed, and then chefs would cook up a unique dish based off those preferences. The job was going well until she didn’t get paid for three weeks straight, which wasn’t surprising considering management abandoned the restaurant after the ceiling caved in.

Annisha hoped for a better experience when she started working at an upscale Mexican restaurant. She quickly learned that her habit of getting to work early to inspect and ensure her station was flawless proved fruitless. Her misogynistic boss emotionally abused her while he simultaneously praised her male colleague of the same rank, despite his repeated lateness and frequent mistakes.

“My life just got worse because you’re here. I’ve been working so hard for this and you just destroyed it,” her boss said to her—which is a terrible way to let someone know when they’ve made a mistake. A big part of teaching someone how to run a kitchen is teaching them how to solve problems, Annisha said, but this restaurant kept her “submissive” with its strict regiment and fear-based way of operating. After three months, she knew she needed to escape when her nights would end in panic attacks.

Annisha then worked at a restaurant in Brooklyn, where the young staff were learning skills she already possessed (such as how to tidy the kitchen for the night). She was overqualified and underpaid in her position, but the chef wouldn’t promote her to sous chef. She worked there for two weeks, learning how to make pizza, before faking her grandma’s sickness to move on to Covina Bar and Restaurant at Park South Hotel.

Although she was finally being paid a salary as a junior sous chef at Covina, Annisha said it was a disaster. The executive chef taught her the particulars of their brunch service for exactly one week before throwing her to handle Mother’s Day brunch solo. On numerous occasions, she found herself scrambling due to the lack of communication. When boxes were moved up to the roof, Annisha assumed it was for storage because her bosses failed to mention to her they were actually opening up the space for service. She was then expected to manage both kitchens.

“Part of teaching someone how to run a kitchen is teaching them how to solve problems,” she said, but this restaurant kept her “submissive” with its strict regiment and fear-based way of operating.

“I always end up fixing bullshit that men do,” Annisha said. She noticed the male sous chef was given a huge bonus to prevent him from quitting the restaurant, whereas she was not given any such incentive for her own conduct. Her breaking point came when they hired a new operations manager who was “so unkind” that she turned to find something easier.

Annisha applied to be a private chef in the Hamptons where she offered several modalities like meal prep, private dinners, or whole day service. It’s a nice break from the stress of working in restaurants, but she still needs to be mindful about creating menus that fulfill client requests.

She also holds the title of Grand Champion on Chopped, where contestants were tested on their ability to create dishes using the grill. She and the runner up, another Latina, expressed how the Latino community is typically underestimated—their skills often invisible to everyone else. This challenge proved just how capable they truly are. Despite the win, an agent trivialized her talent when he proposed a job as a TV chef, and expected her to accept “exposure” as compensation. To which she responded, “I cannot send a check that says ‘watch my TV episode’.”

Annisha had also signed up for Top Chef season 21, but got discarded because there were too many private chefs in the cast. They suggested she have a career change, which is when she first considered opening a restaurant. She was unsure, though, if she wanted to do restaurants ever.

“I like food, and I like people, but I don’t like them together,” Annisha joked. She wanted something simple where people were in and out, and a menu that was easy to replicate. Her current partner, Mike Moreira, reached out to her a year ago about a spot that opened up and as soon as she saw the space, she said, “We should do burritos.”

Shortly after, Annisha started to get cold feet. She knew she could get trapped into a cycle where she passed onto others the aggression that was dumped onto her. Or, she could make a difference when it was her turn to make a difference.

Her fast-casual restaurant is reminiscent of the Latino-owned joints proliferating in California. The primary clientele is made up of young, drunk party goers, who are looking for a quick and delicious bite to satisfy their alcohol-addled stomachs before calling it a night.

Annisha knew immediately what belonged on the menu—particularly, “beans and cheese” (her specialty), the Carne Asada, and the Pollo—because she had grown up eating these flavors. For a vegetarian option, she uses cauliflower, the most boring vegetable in her opinion, coated in “Tinga” sauce to jazz it up. She then rounded out the menu with a seafood option that includes plump, succulent shrimp that burst upon being bitten into.

Keeping a small rotation of ingredients allows Annisha to really focus on quality. She imports her tortillas from Mexico (for true authenticity) and leaves the rice out of her burritos because that’s how they eat in northern Mexico, she said. The protein in her burritos have a chance to shine because they're accented with vegetables and not buried in rice.

The menu could not be more personal to Annisha—the Salsa Roja is inspired by her favorite taco spot in Tijuana; the Salsa Verde is a recipe she’s always made; the dipping sauce is one that her brother makes; the escabeche is her grandma’s recipe; the beans are a family recipe. These recipes can’t be reproduced simply by opening a cookbook, they have to perfected by taste every time. Her niece paid her the ultimate compliment when she ate beans cooked by Annisha and asked, “Did Grandma make these?”

As hard as Annisha works in the kitchen—12 to 14 hours a day—outside of it, she loves to joke around with her staff, or sing to them (poorly) if their performance needs improvement. She doesn’t want to be another chef who values the food she serves more than the staff she hires to serve it. People who have decided to join her journey are helping her, why would she return the favor by belittling them? She learned she has to give them the chance to make mistakes and see how they recover because that’s the only way they can progress.

“Teach people to be successful with the tools you give them. Imagine a toolbox—you can’t just allow them to use only the screwdriver. Show them how to use the whole toolset so they can get better and you can get better.”