We at Balson's love receiving positive responses from our customers -- this recent letter from a 7th grade literary teacher in Va especially lifted our spirits and "Mrs. P" gave us permission to share it....enjoy! The Balsons
My carton of sausages was delivered to my classroom yesterday morning,
and my students (7th graders) swarmed around it. How many questions
can twenty-four kids ask?? After they studied the picture on the
carton, pointed out that there was a discount code on one corner, and
guessed what the sausage looked like, they *begged* me to open it.
(That translates to kids getting my scissors and opening it for me!)
You should have been in the room. Such surgeons! Removing the
carton's protective shrink-wrap skin took almost three minutes--not a
scissor poke on the carton! They peeled the epidermis away, slit one
piece of tape, and lifted the lid.
"They are white! Is it chicken?"
"My daddy makes sausage, but his ain't that color. How'd they do that Mrs. P?"
"Food City has bratwurst that color. Does it taste the same as them?"
"Does this taste different from our sausage, Mrs. P?" Students are
passing the packages around at this point.
"Of course it's different," the surgeon answered for me, "or she
wouldn't have ordered this stuff." In his most uncanny, beseeching
voice, he added, "I can call my granny and have her bring some
skillets and a hot plate--if you want me to."
"This is Mrs. P's Christmas," the mother hen girl points out. "Maybe
she wants to take them home and eat them all by herself. She could
make these last a couple of months if she hides them in the freezer."
"If she give me some, my dad can figure out how to make them for her."
Well, the scrapbooks of my summer trip to England and Cornwall came
off the classroom bookshelf, the pictures of Tintagel and Launceston
were scrutinized. Finally, they found pictures of various shops.
They found the picture of the butcher shop with the sausages
displayed. Mr. Balson, school was a half-day because of the Christmas
holiday break, and I didn't get my wrap-up lesson on a book chapter
done because we were doing something much more important--talking
about the world and how everything not being the same is a good thing.
Apart from now having my wonderful bangers in my home freezer--with
exception of the three that are in an airtight container in the
fridge, I have to say it was pretty much a perfect day. Yesterday
evening, I had a late tea of two traditional bangers, mashed potatoes,
and scrambled eggs. For a short while, I was in Reading with my
friends enjoying the Balson sausages we got in Bridgport before
leaving England's southwest tip. (I had hiked to Merlin's Cave and the
Tintagel ruins using the coastal footpaths to get material for the
purpose of making Merlin and Arthur legends come alive in Southwest
Virginia.) I'm off to the shops today to buy some mushrooms and
yellow finger potatoes. We will be having what my family calls
Brinner (breakfast for dinner). I'll give one package of traditional
bangers to my mother, who grew up in Bottisham/Cambridge before
meeting and marrying my father and moving to America. One package
will be held in reserve for those illustrious students of
mine...because while I was eating my two bangers, I realized that
there is no way to describe how bangers taste...they have to be
experienced, savored. And there is only one way to do that...fix a
full English breakfast for twenty-five kids (doing that in January).
I am so happy with my bangers...
Mr. Balson, I hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas.