At 6, Niscavits turned into a short-order cook when surgery made cooking too challenging
for her mom. Soon — under her mom’s supervision — she was chopping lettuce, breading
chicken fried steaks, and creating dishes from 10 ingredients pulled from the fridge
and pantry.
“Confidence is an ingredient,” Niscavits said. “So many people are intimidated or afraid of cooking. This can be overcome with encouragement and direction.”
Today, the former San Jacinto College culinary student has turned that fearless spirit into a two-decade catering career and counting.
Unsurprisingly, culinary school
In 2001, Niscavits’ parents encouraged her to pursue San Jac’s culinary arts program. Truth be told, it wasn’t much of a stretch for the kid who had carved Thanksgiving turkey to become the young adult pursuing culinary school.
“I’m so glad to have had San Jac ... to have options in that phase of life between high school graduation and truly figuring out my path,” she said.
Niscavits had never made straight As in her life, but now she was acing all her classes under her tough-love culinary professor.
“Professor [Leonard] Pringle gave us a test of 100 ingredients in individual ramekins,” she said. “You could touch and smell but not taste. You had to identify each one, and I scored 100!”
In 2002, Niscavits finished all her culinary classes. Ironically, economics and accounting — the only classes she dropped — were concepts she would learn in the school of hard knocks.
Dawn of d’lish
Business grew, and four years later Niscavits was incorporating d’lish. For a while,
she opened a commercial kitchen and store in leased space in downtown Houston, offering
catering and to-go meals for the lunch crowd.
In 2016, Niscavits and her husband — former high school classmate Joe Niscavits — temporarily relocated d’lish to the family’s cook trailer to prepare for future opportunities.
The next year, they bought a Pearland home with space for a commercial business and a baby on the way.
Entrepreneur ‘hurdicles’
Although entrepreneurship has presented nonstop “hurdicles,” failure has never been an option for Niscavits.
“We keep working hard to overcome each challenge and reach our goals,” she said.
In 2017, Hurricane Harvey displaced her family from their home for nearly three years and forced them to take out a disaster loan. When COVID-19 shuttered events, the caterer adapted by offering local families prepared meals.
In 2021, her husband was laid off, and her father diagnosed with cancer. Determined to keep the momentum, she hired her husband full time, balancing business growth while advocating for her father’s health.
Now Niscavits is working to release the commercial lot beside her home from the disaster loan and secure funding for a 3,000-square-foot facility with a commercial kitchen, food store, dining area, and full-service bar.
“It’s impossible to know what the future holds or how this is all going to play out,” she said. “But I’m willing to play.”
Through it all, d’lish continues to thrive, offering more than 330 customized recipes for everything from corporate to family events.
Niscavits’ advice to chefs in training? Business savvy is just as crucial as cooking skills.
“Cooking and satisfying your customers will come organically,” she said. “Don’t skip accounting or economics. I paid more for my education in the real world of business ownership trial and error.”
Like mother, like daughter
Today, Niscavits watches with pride as her 6-year-old daughter Logan sports her own d’lish chef’s jacket while concocting spice rubs with a mortar and pestle. On a family cruise, she wouldn’t settle for chicken nuggets when escargot, scallops, and gazpacho were on the menu.
Like her mom, she’s fearless.
“My dream is for Logan to go to San Jac culinary school, get her MBA from the University of Houston, and take over d’lish. Hashtag goals!” Niscavits said. “Meanwhile, we’ll continue navigating the challenges to open our new forever kitchen in Pearland. Stay tuned!”
Note: Story dedicated in memory of Mandy Bennett Niscavits' father, Joe Bennett, who recently passed away.