The last thing a man expects to find when in the middle of BFE Nebraska is some of the best Indian food in the nation. But that’s just what a man will be treated to if he makes a stop in tiny Overton, NE. The Indian food I’ve had in New York was not as good as the dishes at this humble abode in the middle of America, scoffingly referred to as “flyover country” in certain circles. (Proving the ignorance of our self-appointed social betters.)
In fact, when I ran teams earlier this year, each time we traveled I-80 coast to coast this place became a “must stop” along the way.
It seems an Indian family bought out a mom and pop truck stop and decided to start serving traditional Indian dishes in the restaurant. They have not cut any corners. While the food is a bit pricey, the quality is unmatched. From the lamb kourma to the saag paneer to the garlic naan to the basmati rice, the food at this humble truck stop would rival, if not surpass what you can find in the big city. Those menu items are just my personal preferences. Other tasty options are there.
Truly, Jay Brothers Truck Stop on Exit 248 is one of those “diamonds in the rough” we truck drivers discuss. It doesn’t look like much on the outside. And it’s seen better days on the inside. But here’s the way I look at things: There’s a lot of richness in the poor house and a lot of poverty in the rich house. I’d rather be amongst real people rather than poseurs and social climbing jackasses. Typical Americans look for the fancy, material things in life (many wouldn’t be caught dead here) but I’ve learned to start looking for humanity and people. It’s very rewarding.
It’s experiences like these that make me glad I bailed on the failing news media when I did, and decided to drive a truck when I need money. (While living abroad as an expat the rest of the time.) There is so much to know about this country, and so much to know about the world beyond the myopia most people spend their entire lives in. A myopia that is at least, in part, foisted upon them by a media that only knows how to create fear and division and push conspicuous consumption as the be all, end all of human existence.
As for me, finding oases of real people and real food made by real hands and having random, once in a lifetime experiences in new places and with new people will never be matched by anything I could own. What’s more, I enjoy interacting and supporting small business owners rather than faceless, nameless, exploitative GloboWorldCorp and its subsidiaries.
A gentlemanly Indian grandfather usually brings my order out when I stop here. Just seeing the humble man at work and watching him waiting to see if I like his cooking is an experience the chain truck stops can’t match. I like people, not things. Why is this so hard for Anglo culture to understand?
This is why I roam. This is why I’m a minimalist. This is why I cannot bear the human farm corporate America herds all the sheeple into. I’d never have had this simple pleasure among a constellation of other simple pleasures like this if I had stayed on the plantation waiting for the “someday” of retirement that never comes. (And by then I’d be too old and worn out to enjoy it, anyway.)
Life is better out here as a free man. Let me tell you.
Help us grow by making a purchase from our Recommended Reading and Viewing page or our Politically Incorrect Apparel and Merchandise page or buy anything from Amazon using this link. You can also Sponsor The New Modern Man for as little as $1 a month.