A Little Bit of Joy, a Lot of Chicken Salad

This week’s reflection isn’t about teaching, AI, or professional learning communities. It’s about something much more important: chicken salad.

Yes, chicken salad. But not just any chicken salad. I’m talking about a place that has elevated this humble dish into a full-blown experience:  Chicken Salad Chick.

I walked in expecting lunch. I walked out with a heart full of joy, a belly full of Southern goodness, and an inexplicable desire to redecorate my house with polka dots and pastel chicken decor.

Let me back up.

Chicken Salad Chick is one of those places that doesn’t just feed you. It wraps you in a warm hug and says, “Sit down, friend. Let us take care of you.”

The Food: Like a Southern Grandma Whispered the Recipe

First, the food. Impeccable. Truly. You might think, “How many ways can someone make chicken salad?” The answer, my friends, is a lot. There’s classic, spicy, fruity, nutty, tangy, and savory.   They have a flavor profile for every personality type.

Feeling sassy? Try the Maui Mama. Want something sweet and mellow? Lauryn’s Lemon Basil has you covered. Feeling extra indecisive? You can order a trio and try three different kinds. It’s like a chicken salad sampler flight, and it’s exactly the kind of chaos I enjoy.

I paired my trio with a cup of loaded potato soup, and it was the kind of meal that makes you close your eyes and silently thank the kitchen staff. Everything tasted fresh, balanced, and just a little bit nostalgic, like someone’s mom made it, but someone’s mom who really knows what she’s doing.

The Service: Top-Notch Southern Hospitality

Let’s talk about the service. In an era where “good service” often means “they didn’t forget my order,” Chicken Salad Chick went above and beyond.

From the moment I walked in, the staff greeted me like I was a regular, even though it was my first time. They explained the menu with genuine enthusiasm, gave me a few recommendations, and somehow made me feel like they were just as excited about my lunch as I was.

And the best part? They smiled,  real, friendly smiles. The kind that make you feel welcome without any pressure. It felt like visiting a friend’s kitchen rather than a restaurant counter. I sat down at my cheerful table with my Barbie-Q and thought, “Why aren’t more places like this?”

The Vibes: Cute, Cozy, and Comforting

If I could bottle up the Chicken Salad Chick aesthetic and sprinkle it around my house, I would. The walls are painted in cheerful hues. The chairs are whimsical. There are cute sayings everywhere, like “I would like to pass on one of my mother’s southern subtleties, “and “Shooga, wouldn’t you feel better with a little lipstick on!” which frankly feels like a personal motto now.

The Chicken Salad Chick decor is all around.  The decor strikes the perfect balance between Southern charm and Instagram-worthy design. They also tell their story which is so inspirational.  

It’s not over-the-top, but it is delightfully quirky. And honestly, we need more quirky joy in this world. Every detail felt intentional,  a place designed not just to serve meals, but to brighten days.

A Lesson in Joyful Spaces

I know I said this reflection wasn’t about AI, but I can’t help myself. There’s a lesson here.

Chicken Salad Chick reminded me how powerful it is when a place is designed with care, when people show up with kindness, and when something as simple as lunch becomes a full sensory delight. That’s the kind of environment I want to create for students. For teachers. For colleagues. For myself. This is also something that AI cannot do for us.  

We all deserve spaces that feed us,  physically, emotionally, and socially. Sometimes, it’s a classroom. Sometimes, it’s a staff lounge. And sometimes, it’s a sunny corner booth with a buttery croissant and a side of broccoli salad.

Final Thoughts (and a New Craving)

If you’ve never been to Chicken Salad Chick, do yourself a favor and go. There is one in Coralville, Iowa. I have included photos of the menu and the address.   Whether you’re a devoted chicken salad fan or a curious skeptic, you’ll find something to love. Go for the food, stay for the ambiance, and leave with a smile.

And if you happen to see me there again next Friday, just know, I’m not stalking the menu. I’m embracing the joy. And probably ordering the Fancy Nancy. Again.