Sourdough. A homesteader’s right of passage

Our family ate their way through six months of dense, soggy, dry and brick like loaves while I slowly learnt the art of sourdough. There were plenty of questionable attempts along the way… but they kept eating it anyway, with only mild complaining

And while my bread still isn’t perfect or fancy, it’s made from simple, nourishing ingredients and has become part of the rhythm of our home. Most mornings it’s toasted beside fresh eggs, and tonight it sat alongside a simple broth based ham bone and potato soup.

But the thing I cherish most about learning sourdough was never really the bread itself. It was the quiet lesson unfolding around it.

For months, our boys watched me fail over and over again. They saw loaves collapse, starters struggle, and plenty of moments where giving up would have been easier. But they also saw persistence. Optimism. The willingness to keep trying anyway.

And eventually (thankfully for all of us ), edible sourdough finally graced the table.

That’s the thing about homesteading. There are always new skills to learn, and most of them begin with failure. Slowly though, one by one, those skills become woven into the everyday rhythms of family life. And our little people are there beside us through all of it.

Sometimes they’re learning how to bake sourdough, and sometimes they’re learning something far greater than the task at hand.

Happy homesteading