AQ'S Corner

Photo Credit: AQ’S Corner LLC

There’s something poetic about the way a salad comes together. The bright green leaves, the crisp snap of cucumber, the salty crumble of feta, it’s simple, yet layered, a story on a plate.

This one, in particular, was under ten dollars. A quick toss of spring mix, cucumbers, red onion, and feta cheese. Yet as I shook it up in my own kitchen, I couldn’t help but drift back to another version of myself the one who lived and worked in New York.

Back then, my days were a blur of motion, the hustle and bustle stitched into every step. The crowded train rides with strangers pressed shoulder to shoulder, the rhythmic rattle of the subway carrying me toward another late night at the office. Long hours often stretched past sunset, leaving me gazing out of tall, beautiful windows at a city glittering with lights. It was exhausting, but there was a strange magic in it too.

And lunch, oh, lunch was never just food. It was the pause, the small ritual in the middle of the chaos. Sometimes my colleagues and I would sneak away from our desks and step into the heartbeat of the city: the corner salad bars, the clatter of trays, the symphony of voices. Twenty dollars for a salad wasn’t just about the greens; it was about the moment, the experience, the break from the grind. Even watching someone shake up a bowl of vegetables behind the counter felt like theater, a tiny performance that made the city come alive.

That’s what this salad gave me today. Not just nutrients, but nostalgia. Not just lunch, but a reminder that experiences don’t always need a Manhattan backdrop to feel full and rich.

Because here I am, far from the rush of subway platforms and glass towers, making a salad in my own kitchen for under ten dollars. Yet when I shook it up, I still felt that same sense of pause, that same little spark of joy I once found in the middle of a crowded lunch hour in New York.

And maybe that’s the lesson. I don’t need the clamor of the city to feel like I’m building something beautiful. These days, through AQ’s Corner, I’m building a different kind of life: one filled with intention, connection, and impact. A life where value isn’t measured in skyscrapers or twenty-dollar salads, but in the choices I make at home, with my family, and in the work I love.

So maybe this bowl of greens is more than just lunch. Maybe it’s proof that even in the quiet of a Carolina kitchen, I can still carry the rhythm of New York, and turn it into something that fuels me, my family, and the future I’m building.