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Thank you for a wonderful seasoning!!! This order is
for stocking stuffers for our friends and family. My
husband and I love it so much we want to share it with
everyone.
Hillary in Omaha, NE
It is the best!
Jim
I sprinkle the Garlic seasoning on EVERYTHING. Good
Stuff!
Terry in Platte City, MO |
|
 It
all started one spring day in the Sandhills of Cody, Nebraska. The
school year ended with a celebration and rodeo in a town so small
the school band only had to know one song to walk the parade route.
Ben was put in charge of cooking 500 pounds of beef in the pit for
the BBQ at the day's end. Now, Ol Ben was a man's man, fully capable
of handling himself in the kitchen, so like any real man, he walked
into the kitchen and said, "Honey, what can I put on this meat to
make it special?"
And Pat, like any good Sandhills woman, tenderly replied, "There's
the spices in the cupboard - go for it!"
Ben started dumping all kinds of his favorite spices in a gallon jar
until he said, "Hey, this smells pretty good!" He put it on his meat
and the entire Cody community thought it was the best they'd ever
had.
 Sandhills people are a pretty special bunch, living where there are
more cattle than people, so one gets to appreciate the finer things
in life: good friends, clean water, a loyal dog, a fine horse, and a
perfect steak. Although Ben is pretty isolated in the Sandhills,
he's gotten to know quite a few nice people in his years raising his
purebred herd of Maine-Anjou cattle. For the next fifteen years, Ben
kept mixing his spices, giving them away to family and friends,
before a friend told him he outta be selling the stuff. It sold for
years purely by word of mouth throughout most states, including
Hawaii and Alaska. Finally a cattle friend in Illinois suggested the
name "Sandhill Ben" since Ben has spent so many years jawin' about
his beloved Nebraska Sandhills.
From Ben's family to yours, we hope you enjoy this product to the
fullest. Take a bite of a perfectly seasoned steak, close your eyes
and feel the Sandhills breezes, hear the Meadowlark, smell the sweet
buffalo grasses, and know that you have tasted a bit of the good
life. |
