Tag: self-sufficiency

  • How to Make Homemade Rye Bread (Perfect for Reubens & Soups!)

    How to Make Homemade Rye Bread (Perfect for Reubens & Soups!)

    Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Thanks for supporting Practical Homesteading!


    Last week, we started this Homemade Reuben Quest with garden-grown sauerkraut. This week, it’s all about the loaf that holds it all together—rye bread.

    I’ll be honest: rye baking isn’t my strong suit. I’ve made plenty of bread over the years, but rye feels like a different animal. It’s sticky, heavy, and doesn’t spring up quite like a soft wheat loaf. Still, homesteading is about learning as you go, so I decided to give it another honest try.


    The Recipe

    Here’s what went into my loaf:

    • 1½ cups warm water
    • 2 tablespoons honey
    • 2 teaspoons active dry yeast (affiliate link)
    • 2¾ cups bread flour (affiliate link)
    • 1½ cups rye flour (affiliate link)
    • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil (I used olive oil instead)
    • 1 tablespoon caraway seeds (I didn’t have any on hand, but they really do make a difference.)
    • 1¾ teaspoons salt

    The Process

    I started by mixing the warm water, honey, and yeast, letting it proof until bubbly and alive. Then in went the flours, olive oil, and salt—all combined using the stand mixer’s dough hook.

    The dough was wetter than what I’m used to, almost too soft to handle, but I resisted the urge to fix it. Bread teaches patience if you let it. I covered the bowl, set it aside, and gave the yeast time to do its work.

    Once the dough had doubled, I turned it out onto the counter, flattened it into a rectangle, and rolled it up like a cigar, pinching the ends to seal. For the second rise, I nestled the loaf into a bread pan (affiliate link) and set the pan inside a larger roasting pan (affiliate link)—a quick Dutch oven substitute that traps steam and builds a crisp crust.

    The bread baked at 425°F (220°C) for 20 minutes covered, then 10 minutes uncovered to finish.


    The Results

    The finished loaf came out a bit flatter than my usual bakes—rye just doesn’t have the lift of wheat—but the flavor made up for it. Deep and hearty, with a touch of tang and sweetness from the honey. The crust was firm but not tough, and the scent when I sliced into it… earthy, warm, and comforting.

    Even without the caraway seeds, it paired beautifully with my homemade sauerkraut and corned beef (coming next week!). The truth is, sometimes the less-than-perfect loaves are the ones that teach us most.

    Homesteading has a way of humbling you in all the best ways—it’s not about reaching perfection but trusting the process, one loaf at a time.


    Have you ever baked rye bread before? Did you use caraway seeds, or leave them out like I did? I’d love to hear your favorite blends, flours, or fermentation tricks in the comments.

    🥖 If you enjoyed this post, please take a moment to like, share, or subscribe!
    Every share helps our little homestead community grow. Subscribe to get next week’s post in your inbox—Part 3: home‑cured corned beef—and finish the ultimate homemade Reuben!

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    Sourdough Bread

    To me, sourdough is both fascinating and frustrating.  How can something based only on simple pantry staples:  flour, water, and salt, result in such a delicious cornerstone food of society?  Once you attempt your first few loaves, you begin to understand.  There’s a certain alchemy in the starter, the captured yeast on which the success…

    Keep reading
  • How to Make Homemade Sauerkraut (Perfect for Reubens & Pork Roasts!)

    How to Make Homemade Sauerkraut (Perfect for Reubens & Pork Roasts!)

    This winter, I’m on a delicious quest to make the ultimate homemade Reuben sandwich—from scratch.

    It’s a three-part series:

    1. Sauerkraut
    2. Rye bread
    3. Home-cured corned beef

    Every piece is made right here at home. Because when you love good food and the process that brings it to the plate, every step matters.

    Today, we start where every great Reuben does—with sauerkraut.


    Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Thanks for supporting Practical Homesteading!


    From Garden to Crock

    Back in September, I harvested crisp green Megaton hybrid cabbages from the garden and tucked them away for something special.

    We stripped off the outer leaves, then cut the heads into manageable chunks with this knife (affiliate link) after using this honing steel (affiliate link) to sharpen the blade. My husband pulled out our meat slicer to shred the cabbage into fine ribbons—teamwork at its best!

    Next, we weighed the shredded cabbage on a kitchen scale, then calculated and measured out 2% canning salt (affiliate link) by weight. After mixing the cabbage and salt together, we packed it down firmly into our antique RedWing stoneware crock using a homemade stamper (basically a broom handle fitted onto a wooden block—but it works perfectly for this purpose).


    The Secret to a Clean Ferment

    Place cabbage leaves above the salt/cabbage mixture.
    A garbage bag filled with water helps to seal the fermenting sauerkraut from outside air.

    To finish, we laid a few whole cabbage leaves on top and placed a water-filled plastic garbage bag over everything. This simple trick does two things:

    • The weight keeps the cabbage fully submerged in brine.
    • The plastic molds to the sides of the crock, reducing airflow and spoilage.

    Then the real magic began—waiting. The crock sat in a cool, dark corner of the basement for about three and a half months. Time and microbes quietly transformed that fresh cabbage into something incredible.


    The Big Reveal

    That beautiful sauerkraut after 3.5 months of fermentation.

    When I finally opened the lid, I was greeted by the unmistakable scent of good fermentation—earthy, tangy, and fresh. The sauerkraut was crisp, slightly golden, and bursting with flavor.

    This batch is destined for homemade Reubens and maybe a pork roast or two. The wait? Absolutely worth it.


    Reflections from the Crock

    Homesteading has a way of teaching through food—patience, balance, and trust in nature’s quiet work. The same rhythms that shape a garden shape us, too.


    Have you ever made your own sauerkraut or fermented veggies?
    Homesteading is more fun when we learn together.

    Tell me what’s bubbling on your countertop—or what I should try fermenting next!

    💚 If you enjoyed this post, please take a moment to like, share, and subscribe!

    New readers help this little homestead grow—and sharing your own food projects inspires others, too.

    Subscribe to join me for the next part of this Reuben adventure: homemade rye bread!

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  • My Mission: Growing Food, Raising Kids, and Building Community — A Path Back to Connection

    My Mission: Growing Food, Raising Kids, and Building Community — A Path Back to Connection

    Daily writing prompt
    What is your mission?

    “We’re stronger together.”
    — A lesson from the land, the past, and the heart.

    Some days, I find myself wondering why I share so much of my messy, joyful, back-to-the-land life. Then I remember—it’s not just a blog; it’s a declaration of purpose. I’m not just learning to grow food or raise livestock. I’m learning to build a life rooted in connection, resilience, and love—the kind of life that feels increasingly rare in our modern world.


    Growing Food

    My mission comes back to the words that guide everything I do: “Growing food, raising kids, building community.”

    Growing food isn’t just about self-sufficiency; it’s about slowing down and remembering that life takes time. Whether it’s a full garden, a few backyard hens, or a pot of herbs on a sunny windowsill, each act connects us to the earth and to the generations who worked it before us.

    You don’t need acres to begin—just a seed, a container, and a little sunlight.

    Even one small step can be the beginning of a more grounded life. Each seed planted is a reminder that we can create abundance with our own hands.


    Raising Kids

    Just as tending the garden teaches patience, so does parenting. Homesteading is a classroom like no other—muddy, humbling, and full of wonder.

    It teaches our children what no textbook can: that hard work matters, that life is cyclical, and that family is their safe harbor in a sometimes harsh world.

    My hope is that my kids grow up knowing home isn’t merely a place—it’s a legacy we build with care and intention. Whether they keep chickens, plant tomatoes, or simply carry these values forward, I want them to understand where they come from and who they are.


    Building Community

    And then there’s community—the heartbeat of homesteading and, I believe, our survival as humans.

    American society often tells us that strength comes from independence—that we should manage everything ourselves, and outsource what we can’t, because we’re too exhausted to do it all. But that version of “strength” leaves us burned out and disconnected.

    True strength doesn’t grow in isolation—it blossoms in interdependence.

    Sometimes that means swapping seeds or recipes; other times, it’s checking on a neighbor or being brave enough to ask for help. We were never meant to do this alone.


    Lessons from the Past

    When I think about how far we’ve drifted from those roots, I can’t help but look back with respect. Our great-grandparents understood community in ways we’ve forgotten.

    Their lives weren’t easy—many faced relentless hardship. I once read about children in rural Wisconsin in the 1930s who walked miles to town barefoot, carrying their shoes so they wouldn’t wear them out. They’d put them on only once they reached town, because those shoes had to last—and often be passed down to the next child.

    Those stories remind me that while the past wasn’t perfect, it carried wisdom worth keeping. People ate real food, raised resilient children, and looked out for their neighbors. They knew that survival wasn’t just about grit—it was about connection and care.


    Planting Hope

    In the end, that’s what I want my life—and this blog—to reflect. I want to inspire others to live intentionally, grow their own food, raise their families with love, and reconnect with the people around them.

    Because when we nurture the soil, our children, and each other, we’re planting more than gardens—we’re planting hope. And in that hope, we rediscover a simple truth our ancestors never forgot:

    We are always stronger together.


    Now it’s your turn. How do you balance modern life’s demands with a desire to live more simply? Tell me about it in the comments. Let’s start a conversation!

    If this post spoke to you, I’d love for you to help the message spread:

    💬 Share your thoughts in the comments — I truly enjoy hearing your stories.

    💚 Share this post with a friend who believes we’re stronger together.

    🌾 Subscribe to the blog for more reflections on growing food, raising kids, and building community—one season at a time.

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  • My Top 5 Essential Grocery Staples for Homesteading and Scratch Cooking

    My Top 5 Essential Grocery Staples for Homesteading and Scratch Cooking

    List your top 5 grocery store items.

    Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Thanks for supporting Practical Homesteading!


    If you walked down a typical grocery store aisle with me, you might think I’m lost. While most American shoppers reach for convenience, I’m the one squinting at sacks of flour, jars of yeast, and tubs of coconut oil — the same staples my great-grandmother probably chose 75 years ago. I don’t shop for ready-made meals; I shop for possibility.

    At home, those bulk ingredients become whatever we need — bread, tortillas, sauces, or even snacks. If I don’t know how to make something, I learn. A simple search and a quiet evening in the kitchen have taught me more than any cookbook could. This hands-on, old-fashioned approach has saved us thousands over the years, but more importantly, it’s built confidence, patience, and gratitude for every meal we share.

    Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Chinese takeout once in a while! I’ve learned to make my own dumpling and stir-fry recipes — they’re delicious when they turn out, and hilarious when they don’t. (One of my most epic flops was a lemon pepper chicken so salty it could’ve been used as a salt lick.) Mistakes keep me humble, and in a way, they’re the best ingredient for growth.

    Homemade potato chips
    Bloody Mary with mostly homegrown ingredients

    So with gratitude — and a dash of humility — here are my five most essential grocery items and how they shape my kitchen life on the homestead.


    5. Coconut Oil

    Coconut oil (affiliate link) is my go-to multipurpose fat. It melts like butter and works wonders in place of lard or shortening. I use it to pop popcorn, bake desserts, and even blend it into homemade flour tortillas.

    Its aroma — faintly sweet and buttery — adds a subtle depth you can’t quite place but always appreciate.

    Tip: For tender baked goods, replace half the butter or shortening in your recipe with coconut oil, then reduce liquid slightly. It gives just enough chew without the greasy feel.


    4. Active Dry Yeast

    Yeast (affiliate link) is the quiet hero of my kitchen — small, simple, and full of potential. Watching dough rise never loses its magic, especially when the kitchen smells of warm, sweet yeast and anticipation.

    It symbolizes self-reliance: turning flour, water, and salt into something living, breathing, and nourishing.

    Tip: Always proof yeast with a pinch of sugar in warm water (around 110°F). If it bubbles within 10 minutes, your dough is ready to rise.


    3. Chicken and Beef Bouillon Powder

    I lean on chicken (affiliate link) and beef (affiliate link) bouillon powders for soups, gravies, and especially rice. Cooking rice in chicken or beef stock instead of water transforms it from plain to crave-worthy.

    I also mix beef bouillon into my homemade onion soup powder — it adds warmth and richness that store mixes can’t match.

    Tip: Swap half the water for stock when cooking noodles, grains, or vegetables. It’s the fastest way to round out flavor without extra sauces or salt.


    2. Plain White Sugar

    Plain old white sugar earns a spot near the top because it does so much more than sweeten desserts. It wakes up yeast, balances tomato acidity, and — lately — fuels our lemonade habit.

    My sister keeps me well-supplied with lemons, so I make fresh lemonade weekly. When the kids come in sun-dusted and thirsty, that chilled pitcher waiting in the fridge makes them light up.

    Tip: Add a teaspoon of sugar to tomato sauces or soups to tame acidity without losing depth of flavor.


    1. Flour

    If coconut oil is the heart of my pantry, flour is its backbone. I buy high-gluten flour for breadmaking (affiliate link), but I’m excited to experiment more with ancient grains soon.

    The feel of dough under my hands, the smell of a fresh loaf cooling on the counter, and the crackle as it’s sliced — it’s the rhythm that grounds my kitchen.

    Flour builds loaves, tortillas, focaccia, and even desserts. It’s humble, forgiving, and powerful — no one in my house has ever once complained about home-baked anything.


    We rarely buy vegetables from the store, relying instead on what we’ve grown and preserved — jars of tomatoes, beans, and pickles lining the pantry. They remind me that what we grow in summer sustains us long after the frost sets in.

    Our winter meals center around potatoes, onions, and frozen vegetables like broccoli and bell peppers. We’ve experimented with extending our garden season using a small greenhouse and straw. There’s something deeply satisfying about pulling greens or a carrot from a garden while snow still glitters outside.

    As for meat, we’re still building toward full independence. We raise our own pork, purchase beef from my sister’s grass-fed herd, and still buy chicken from the store — for now. One day soon, meat birds will join the homestead lineup, and the circle will feel more complete.

    Each grocery item on this list earns its place not for novelty but for versatility. They remind me that eating well doesn’t require endless ingredients — just a few solid building blocks and the creativity to make them shine.

    This slower, more deliberate approach to cooking has taught me creativity, patience, and gratitude — lessons that spill over into every other area of life.

    Homesteading has shown me that ingredients matter less than the care and love you pour into them. Every loaf, jar, and meal built from raw goods feels like an act of heritage — and hope — in a world that moves too fast.

    Homestead maple syrup

    What five grocery staples would make your list? Please share them in the comments. And if this post inspired you, please likeshare, or subscribe to follow more homesteading stories, seasonal recipes, and simple living tips.

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