There is a restaurant in Collegetown that is near and dear to my heart, perhaps more so than any other in the greater Ithaca area. It was the site of many a childhood dinner outing, exciting not only because the food was yummy, but even more so because of the chance to see Peter, who would always stop by our table with a free bottle of wine and ask each of us how we were doing. He especially liked to ask my younger brother Charlie about his soccer exploits, and there was definitely a point in the ’90s when every waiter in the restaurant knew my brother’s name. (Just in case you’re curious, Peter, Charlie is playing varsity as a sophomore and is the leading scorer on the team.) So, where is this benevolent restaurant, you ask? Why, it’s right around the corner: the Souvlaki House, owned and operated by Peter Papachryssanthou (I asked him to spell his name for me, and he just handed me a menu where it was already written) and his family.

Peter is originally from Greece, but came to the States in 1970 to escape an oppressive dictatorship “for a better tomorrow.” He opened the Souvlaki House in 1973, after a short stint in New Haven. He wanted to open a restaurant around an Ivy League institution specifically, and after an exhaustive search that included Princeton and Harvard, found Cornell, which he loved. I can practically hear the Cayuga’s Waiters in the background singing “we didn’t go to Harvard…” This means, if you do the math, that Souvlaki House has been open for 35 years. Damn. My father discovered it in the ’80s as a grad student at I.C. and then as a Ph.D. student here at Cornell, and he and Peter have been friends ever since. Hence the free bottles of wine.

Peter operates the restaurant with his family: his wife and fellow cook Catarina and his two sons, who were waiters and busboys for a long time before they both headed off to college. The elder, Bob, is a student in the Hotel School, and the younger, George, is a sophomore at the University of Vermont. It was, by the way, very easy to find these two in their respective school directories. Papachryssanthou is not the most common name around.

During our interview Peter waxed eloquent on two main subjects: his love of Ithaca and the ethics of owning a restaurant. He says that he loves the small town feel of Ithaca, citing it as a “peaceful town to have a family in.” Beyond that, there are lots of things to do, including “skiing, fishing and different shows every night here and at I.C.” He summed Ithaca up in two words: “peaceful and nice.” Perhaps he saw my last column about how I’m in love with Ithaca. If not, Peter, you’re preaching to the choir here.

Our discussion of the ethics of the restaurant business began with me asking him why he had both Greek and Italian cuisine on his menu (alongside his marathon of a surname), and if he preferred to cook Greek. “Food,” he told me, “is a fashion and there is a great demand for Italian.” He said also that he used to work with an Italian chef (unsurprisingly named Vinnie) who taught him a lot, and that Italian is very similar to Mediterranean food. In addition, he likes Italian food.

“It doesn’t matter what I make,” he said. “It matters when customers leave and say ‘Peter, the food was delicious tonight.’”

He told me that ethics was very important to him as a restaurant owner. He and his wife make all their ingredients from scratch. “I don’t have two types of ham in my sandwich unit,” he says, “one for the customer and one for my son. You eat what my sons eat.” He sleeps like a baby every night, he says, knowing that his customers got the full value for their money — i.e. homemade mozzarella, pepperoni, pasta and tzatsiki (yum!).

So, head on down. Chances are Peter will remember something about you and make your day better for it, like the fact that your little brother’s a soccer prodigy, or, as a friend recounted, that you’re from Lebanon, in which case he will serenade you in Arabic. And, of course, the food’s delicious. My boyfriend goes for the gyro every time, my parents for the Aurora pizza, and me? Call me old-fashioned, I like the pasta — Peter’s marinara recipe is simply stupendous, and the Greek salad (my sister and I would compete to find the biggest chuck of feta cheese) is one of my favorite childhood memories.