We were cruising down Highway 99 towards Delhi in our thirty-four-foot caravan. It was one hundred and five degrees outside the doors of our Fleetwood rig as we approached Delhi. Delhi? Did I read that right? (Insert Indian nod here) The Indian food lover in me was intrigued. The sweaty camper in me was hot and aggravated (And possibly hungry.)
As we drove down this corridor in rural America, we saw sign after sign for Indian bistros and dhabas along the route. We were passed by multiple Singh Brothers long haul truckers in massive eighteen-wheelers. These turbaned Sikh truckers did not fit the image of the long-haul truckers I’ve had in my mind my whole life. (My three hundred pound country music-loving father being one of them) The inter-state trucking industry has been taken over in the last ten years by Punjab truckers. Redneck, Alabama-listening truckers like dad, may be a thing of the past. Dad might be retiring next year but there are nearly 30,000 punjabi truckers delivering our Amazon warehouse goods, our foods and fuel to small towns across this great nation, ready to take over. The old saying is so true, truckers are the backbone of America. 
Besides retrieving all the useless crap we just ordered for the dog from Amazon, one of the best things about Punjab truckers is they are bringing their Indian traditions of roadside food stands colloquially known as dhabas, with them to small towns in America. Towns that once thought that Olive Garden was “Ethnic” cuisine now have the option to have a Gobi Manchurian or a Lamb Vindaloo, hot and spicy, for dinner. Let’s face it, when it’s 105 degrees outside in Delhi, you need to shove the spiciest Chicken Tikka Masala at your face right now. That is not sarcasm, I really want to enjoy some authentic Indian food when we get to our RV park this evening. I do not want to stand over a hot stove to cook it myself. Especially not this evening in Fresno County, California as we rolled into Merced RV Resort.
Luckily for Americans from small towns who love spicy Punjabi food, these dhabas are carrying their traditions with them (And especially their hickory-laden Bru coffee) along the byways of America. As we traversed the 99 towards Fresno California, we really began to wonder, are we near the Golden Triangle? The air quality was so terrible from the nearby Coffeepot Fire, we could be in India’s capital city. But no, the fact that we were now deep in California’s agricultural capital made it hard to imagine we could soon be approaching Agra and the Taj Mahol pretty soon. I counted close to seventy-five Trump banners as we drove through California’s heartland; Nope, we were definitely still deep in California, not India.
India or California, you decide
Or maybe it’s just a giant feedlot to the west side of the freeway. Yes, it definitely smelled like a feedlot and not the polluted Ganges River. There were no rickshaws to be seen here. Alas, we weren’t really near Delhi, India but hot and smoky Delhi California. But that was okay because we pulled off the highway for an overnight stop at the Merced RV Resort, an RV resort that came chock full of friendly kittens! For a feline lover who had left her own kittens at home a month earlier, this was a great travelers find.
We turned left on the 99 towards Delhi at the Sacremento junction. I was torn between reaching our riverside RV park at a decent time so that I could snuggle stray kittens and also jump in something wet. (It was still 105 degrees outside) But there was also my desire to flip off the worst governor we have ever had here in California as we zoomed past the state capitol. Oh, look! Cal Expo! The horse racing fan in me yelled as we cruised by the only race track for trotting horses still open in California.
I found my spice route
I wasn’t always an Indian food expat but multiple trips to the spice capital of the world have changed me as a food traveler for life. The foodie in me has become pretty obsessed with everything curried, dals and rotis. Although it’s been a minute since we have journeyed to southern India, this Indian food lover was woke at the sights of all those dhabas along the interstate. I knew that when we reached Big Sur in a few days I had to go straight to Whole Foods for some fresh rockfish and get working on a spicy Kerala Coconut Fish Curry.
But first Sequoia
But first, we had to check out that national park over there. I’m not myself a huge fan of national parks because I don’t care for crowds. That is one thing about travels to India that are very hard for me. I prefer forests and trees and trails where my dog can run off-leash. I don’t care for millennials making TikTok videos. This wanderlust that takes me to the best curry houses in southern India also has me just aghast at being smack dab in the middle of a crowded city of 8.4 million souls. When I go on holiday I usually plan travels to eastern Sierra mountain towns where we see more marmots than other travelers. But sometimes you do have to step into one of America’s legendary sites to see some of the oldest pine trees on earth. And that led us past Delhi, California to Sequoia National Park this past week.
We packed the dog in the Jeep and prepared to leave the pup in the Jeep parked in the shade all morning at 7,000 feet while we did a few walkabouts around under 2,300-year-old Sequoias. One thing about national parks in the U.S. is that you can’t take dogs anywhere! But we didn’t want to leave the pup down in the heat of the Fresno Valley, so at least she got to enjoy a delightful car ride, and what dog doesn’t love that?
The giant Sequoias were just stunning and we did enjoy the cool mountain breezes but not the crawl of traffic as we drove the highways of Sequoia National Park. As we approached the entrance near the Congress Grove, the foothills were dry and brown in mid-September and we had to marvel at how much this landscape reminded us of Bandipur Tiger Reserve near Masinagudi, southern India. The winding mountain drive took us back in time to the Western Gnats and a drive from Tamil Nadu to the Jungle Retreat near Ooty. We really could not escape from India on this trip!
Once we returned back to the hot and I mean RV park in the afternoon, yes I was craving Indian food big time. Instead of hiding inside from the hot ball of hate, called the sun, the pup and I dunked ourselves in the river. Thank the Lord this RV park also has a river. A river I feel like could be teeming with snakes but when it’s one hundred and five degrees and four p.m. I’ll take my chances with snakes. And if I survive the snaky river this Punjabi Fish Stew will be on the table once we reach chillier Big Sur, California in a few days.
What says hello fall more than an authentic spicy fish curry?
Chennai Fish Curry
1 pound of rockfish, cut into bite-sized chunks
3 teaspoons coconut oil
3 dried red chilies
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
1 teaspoon freshly grated garlic
green beans
small dutch potatoes
1 can of coconut milk
2 cups water
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon good quality curry powder
1 teaspoon of salt
In the coconut oil roast your chiles until smoking. Remove the chiles and add the red onions. Fry until they are so deeply browned but not burnt. This should take at least ten minutes. Set the onions and chiles aside to just cool slightly and then blend in a nutri-bullet.
Return the chiles to the oiled pan, along with the garlic, ginger and the spices. Roast the spices with the onions until the spices are no longer raw, adding water slowly so the spices do not catch. This whole process should take at least twenty minutes.
Once your spices are roasted, mix in your coconut oil. Let the curry warm up again and mix in your rockfish. Season with salt and a smattering of cilantro on top and easy Indian curry fish soup is served!
