It was late last Friday evening and I was on the phone with my girlfriend's sister after having recently arrived in Ithaca, New York, for a weekend visit. "Drive up to campus, and ask any student. Everybody knows where it is," Sis said. "We'll meet you there in 15 minutes."
Armed with that tip and a simple map drawn by the motel desk clerk, we set out on the snowy streets hoping the pavement had been sufficiently cleared of last week's slippery precip. Our destination: The Hot Truck. Continue reading 'The Hot Truck'