The Queens couple

Lindsey Alexander, 32, editor, and Sal Borriello, 32, cabinet maker, Chapel Hill, N.C.

LINDSEY: Before I moved back to my hometown, the term “quality of life” was nebulous to me. People who had moved elsewhere would talk about it, but I didn’t really get it. I do now. We pay the same each month to live in a historic farmhouse on six acres as I did for my tiny Brooklyn apartment.

My husband, who was born and raised in Queens, and never lived outside New York until moving here last year, loves it. He has the woodshop he always wanted, and we’re raising eight chickens. (The eggs are unbelievable.) A trip to the grocery store doesn’t take up half our Saturday. We’re not losing hours of our lives to mysterious subway delays.

SAL: Besides Flushing, there’s nothing left in New York. You used to be able to eat well. Bagels? I can think of maybe two places worth going to. Pizza is a joke; sure, there’s a dozen great brick-oven fancy places, but if you just want a good slice? Pastrami, oh poor pastrami. There are what? Two places. I used to drive around on weekends hitting three, sometimes four boroughs desperate to find a glimmer of quality pastrami, only to meet only corned beef gone bad. Now, I make my own pastrami.

I lived in an apartment on top of a noisy hipster bar. My upstairs neighbors turned their place into an Airbnb flophouse. What am I supposed to miss, tourists?

LINDSEY: We still stress about money sometimes, but not in the same up-at-night-worrying way. Living here gives us the freedom to choose our next step together; a freedom we didn’t have, and could hardly imagine, in New York, where just getting through the day stretched us to the physical, financial and emotional limit.