Drove my sister up to Cornell the other day. After laboring hours helping her unpack (by jove their dorm rooms are small... but modern. And clean), mom and I yielded to her insistance on trying some sort of food stuff called a "squeeze".

The restaurant (if it can be called such) is geographically in rather proximity of Ithaca--except that there's this thing called a Cayuga Lake in between (okay, I exaggerate a bit). Took us the better part of half an hour to get from one place to the other. The restaurant is actually in the village of Trumansburg, one of those small places on a state highway that you know you've hit because the speed limit drops instantaneously from 55 to 30. People there are big on parades, fairs, and demolition derbies (so says my sister). My sister found the place quite accidentally: her boyfriend and she got lost on the way to a restaurant (how can one accidentally get lost and end up miles from "real" civilization is beyond me) and she got hungry. They went there a few more times afterwards with friends and the general consensus seems to be that the "squeeze" is quite tasty.

So anyway, after slowing down and approaching down-town Trumansburg from the general direction of Ithaca (southeast, if you really care) on the only large street in the area (SR 96, aka East Main Street), on the union of Union Street (pun intended), Washinton Street, Old Main Street, and East/West Main Street (look at the map, you'd see what I mean), you'd see this charming little place called Ron Don's VIllage Pub (Don't actually trust the "pin point" on google map... I've been there and I know it is where I claimed it to be) with a sign beneath it saying "Wings, Sandwiches, Pizzas".

You go in, and you seat yourself: there's only one waitress on duty and she'd be too busy to worry about you until you definitely showed an interest in engaging yourself in the business of that establishment. (Of course, if your party has more than 5 people, she might actually come and invite you to sit at the otherwise closed section where they have the only table there big enough for such a party.) The waitress would bring you a menu. If you went, like I did, for the reputation of the "squeeze", you'd ignore all other pages (well, possibly not the drinks page) and go directly to the third to last page, where underneath the page-title, they explain exactly what a squeeze is--you'd read it, and be just as puzzled as you were before. It simply says that a squeeze is like a sandwich, but folded in a 9-inch pizza crust.

What you should imagine is this: a nice, chewy pizza crust, not thick like the famous Chicago deep-dish, nor cruchy and hard like a sheet of cookies, more nice and hefty like a foccacia minus the olive oil and onion and other non-dough stuff. You get you meat (chipped steak, chicken, turkey, bacon, ham) (or you can do without your meat and order the veggie option where the chief ingredient seems to be mushrooms) baked into the "pizza" with some cheese (mostly mozarella, some menu options call for cheddar instead) and possibly some veggies (green peppers, 'shrooms, the standard affair of pizzas). Then they take some lettuce and tomato, put it on top, slab on some dressing of choice (pretty much anything you can think of) (you can also have the dressing on the side), and with a little whack, fold the whole thing in half. Just like a sandwich.

It comes with a choice of side among potato salad, fruit salad, fries (french or curly), chips, or onion rings.

It is half-way between a toasted sandwich and a calzone, and wonderfully delicious.