Tag: Prepper

Dehydrating Mushrooms
Homesteading · Prepping · Preserving

Dehydrating Mushrooms

Sarah

Overall I prefer freeze-dried ingredients for long-term storage over dehydrated, but there are a few things i far prefer dehydrated. Mushrooms are one of those things. The act of dehydrating changes the structure of the mushroom. Freeze-drying mushrooms leaves them intact and raw, but when you dehydrate them, the heat slowly cooks them. It removes the water (of which mushrooms are high in) and in the end the umami flavor becomes dense.

You can dry whatever type mushroom you prefer, I usually do button or crimini mushrooms. My method is to go to a restaurant supply store and buy pre-sliced. I can get 2.5 pound containers for the same price as whole there, meaning one less thing to do. All I need to do is spread them on the dehydrator trays. It’s also a great project when a local grocery store runs some crazy deal like “10 for $1”. Buy when cheap, and preserve.

The main thing is: if you slice them, keep them the same size. Makes for easier drying.

Drying on the dehydrator.

I use a L’Equip dehydrator I have had for a very long time. I bought it in the mid 2000’s, and it’s been solid from day 1.

Spread your mushrooms on dehydrator trays, at first spread them out thin so the air can move around, to speed up the drying. I dry around 155° on my dehydrator. Every hour or two I move the trays so each tray gets a chance to be closest to the heat source. Keeps drying even that way. As they start to shrivel up and darken, you can condense the trays a bit. I find it takes around 12 hours or so to dry a load.

When the mushrooms are leathery dry – and you can’t feel any tacky spots – turn off, take the lid off, and let them air cool. Then pack them loosely into mason jars. 2.5 pounds fresh will fit into 2 quart mason jars.

Preserved for the season – and for winter dishes.

How to use?

When I making stews and stroganoff or similar, I place a cereal bowl full of them, cover with boiling water, and let hydrate for 15 or so minutes. I drain them, reserving the broth created. Saute the mushrooms as you would fresh ones. Use the broth in your recipe. It’s got an incredibly deep flavor and aroma. Unlike fresh mushrooms, the dried ones will have a pleasant chewy texture and never be slimy (my kids love the dried ones in meals, but complain about fresh).

The bonus? You know where your mushrooms come from. Most dried ones sold commercially are processed in China and can be years old. And often are rather dusty/dirty, so the soaking broth isn’t usable.

~Sarah

Growing To Eat Versus Growing For Hobby
Gardening · Homesteading · Prepping

Growing To Eat Versus Growing For Hobby

Sarah

One of the things I do yearly is test my boundaries. The boundaries of growing plants. To see what can I push to the edge, and still work.

But to explain it, not that many years ago we were urban homesteaders, living off the luxury of having our mini-farmstead right out the back door, with the greenhouse was just a few steps off the back deck. The luxury of having electricity, and even water, right where we needed it. Life was linear, I happily grew our plants under grow lights, snuggled in with a toasty heater running to stave off the cold chills. We grew food as a hobby, even when we started our first urban farm there. Because it was a hobby, I wasn’t watching how much it was costing us. And to be honest, I was following conventional wisdom about gardening. “Do this and you will get good results”.

Where we live now, we had none of the infrastructure in place when we moved in, in spring of 2018. 4 springs later we have some of that in place. We have water. We have irrigation in much of it. But electricity? We could do it, but it’s just not that important in the grand scheme of things. For now, growing to eat became far more important.

I realized in the first year of living on the island my goals would have to change. And they did. I took everything that was “set in stone” about our grow zone and tossed it out. And came of the mantra of “Either you survive, or you don’t” because…in the wilds, mother nature would do that to us humans. I was moving 600 feet of hose back and forth daily to just keep the plants growing. It was not sustainable, year in and out.

One of the first things I truly noticed after we moved back to the island was plant sellers on the island. They kept them in greenhouses, under lights, fully heated for a very long time. They were showy, of course, but was it a good thing? For were we teaching ourselves to grow as a hobby, or for survival? A summer garden will feed you, but it won’t let you survive if you needed. We need dense plants, shorter, but built for handling late chilly nights. Plants that don’t need pampering to survive. Living in the north means you must work around the lack of light in winter and early spring. It means you must wait. You will have time. But you must have patience.

This may well change how you grow in a microclimate as well.

Plant your seeds far later then you see others doing it. It’s OK. You are not in a race with them. You might see on Facebook or other social media that one person, who has a huge greenhouse full of plants, that are huge. In March. Or April. It only means they started their seeds inside, under grow lights, and with a mat heater under them…in January.

But here is the thing:

They cannot plant those plants outside.

They would die quickly. Being pampered they are delicate. The leaves would be sapped within a night or two, and the plant would die. It has no hardening off. It lives in a gilded cage of fake light and warmth.

And that’s totally OK if they want to grow for show, as a hobby. That’s their thing.

For us, (mostly me) I had to step back and not seed in January. Nor February. Only in mid March did I do the first things.

And then there are “the years”:

This spring has been brutal for patience. It’s cold. It is rainy. And it has barely let up. We many weeks behind. Our goal is growing to eat, so we must wait till the time is right enough – that we won’t waste seeds or time to see the crops fail, over and over.

It is May 29th and it was 48* last night. It is continuing to be this cold many nights. It just won’t stay about 50* at night. And worse, it keeps raining (which is good for the long term, I won’t argue that, but it is frustrating none the less). It is sunny at times but holding in the 50’s many days. Even in the low 60’s the plants cannot surge. They need a full day’s worth of sun. Not clouded over till the afternoon. Or worse? All day long. Grey stretches on, for months now.

I have my views on this. I feel it is happening because of Tonga’s volcanic explosion in January, and it recently waking up yet again this past week. Tonga is easy to ignore, for it sits in the middle of nowhere, far away. It is near Fiji and American Soma. It reminds me of the winter after Mt. St. Helens blew when I was a child. It was a cold summer and just never felt right. Say what you will about global warming, all it takes is 1 very large volcanic explosion to set all that back. The thing is, our spring and summers have become hotter this past decade, and spring happens earlier every year. But this year? It is far, far different. All the local growers (both farmers and gardeners) I know see it…but the media is pretty much silent on it. Does it not fit their narrative of global warming crisis? Cold wet springs don’t help the narrative of an eternal drought, and withering hot temperatures (which last summer were horrible around the 4th of July).

This is a year where growing for hobby will not happen for many in the Pacific Northwest. They will give up as their seeds don’t come up, or if they do, they are scraggly and barely making. Their tomatoes will not thrive for now. If summer comes, it may change, but the crops will be smaller, and we will run into the issue of blight in September with the rains, and the crops won’t be ready to pull.

This is the year to ask: 

Am I growing to eat, or as a hobby?

If it is to eat…..you need to get serious about covering your crops to ensure more warmth. Be it hoop tunnels, greenhouses or wrapping fences in plastic wrap to block winds. This is the year we must work on it.

Today I am wrapping 2 fenced beds with 6 mil plastic (for painting) to push the temperatures up in the beds. I want to eat. Hobbies don’t feed you full time.

~Sarah

Great Depression Era Recipes: Rice and Gravy
Prepping · Recipes

Great Depression Era Recipes: Rice and Gravy

Sarah

For the next recipe in the Great Depression Era series, Rice and Gravy was a simple recipe, and allowed for using up leftovers. It also served as a cheap, but filling meal. We ate this in many versions growing up. The plainest Great Depression version was rice and gravy. Just leftover gravy served over boiled rice. Cheap. Easy. Maybe add in some bread to wipe the plate. Not glorious, but again…it was more about filling the belly than being fancy. They were not so picky then.

Mine is a bit more indulgent, because I can afford to add vegetables and meat to the meal for now.

Gravy isn’t used the same way these days, as it was long ago. If one makes it, it’s often a packet of gravy mix used. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, and you can buy lower sodium versions now. But maybe don’t use the jarred gravy, it’s pretty sad stuff. And if you can make it from scratch, so much the better. And if you can, make it lower sodium – most of us just don’t need the heavy salt used in commercial gravy.

Rice and Gravy would go on to become something even better, in the 1940’s.

It would become Loco Moco. Rice, a hamburger patty, a fried egg, and gravy on top. Salty, carby and full of protein. Pretty awesome food. Created by a group of high school surfers in Hawaii, who were hungry, and didn’t have a lot of cash on hand. It’s a great story to read about.

So I took the Depression Era concept and made Moco Loco, because….why not? If I am going to make dinner, let’s make it a real dinner.

Rice and Gravy (Turned into Loco Moco)

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups white rice
  • 4 cups water
  • 1-2 Tbsp oil
  • 8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
  • 1 large white or yellow onion, peeled and chopped finely
  • 2 packets lower sodium brown gravy mix
  • 2 cups water
  • 6 hamburger patties
  • 6 large chicken eggs

Directions:

Add 4 cups water to a large heavy saucepan, bring to a boil. Add the rice, bring back to a boil while stirring. Turn down to low, cover and let cook for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile in a heavy skillet, heat the oil over medium-high and add in the mushrooms and onion, saute until tender and any moisture is cooked off.

Prepare the gravy mix in a saucepan according to the directions using the 2 cups water. Add the hot gravy to the mushroom/onion mixture.

Serve the gravy over the hot rice.

Notes:

To make the meal far more filling, grill up a hamburger patty per person.

Fry the eggs, sunny side up if you like them runny, or hard cooked.

Dish up the rice, making a circle of it on each plate, place the grilled hamburger patty on top, then the egg, and ladle the gravy over it.

Serves 6 if done as Loco Moco.

~Sarah

Great Depression Era Recipes – Split Pea Soup
Prepping · Recipes

Great Depression Era Recipes – Split Pea Soup

Sarah

Walking back into time is cooking this recipe. I can see my Mom cooking in the kitchen. She made a version of this recipe at least once a month growing up.

She really loved soup, and for good reason. It fed many people, and could be stretched easily to feed more. It often tasted better the second day. And my Dad could take a Thermos mug of hot soup on jobs, on cold winter days. She had soup on the stove at least once a week, and would heat up leftovers for lunch every day.

This is a classic recipe you would have found in the Great Depression years, printed in local cookbooks by other women. And it stuck around a long time after, because well….split peas are about as hardy a food as you can find. And you can load it with ham, or use it sparingly, depending on what you can source. The only real difference from the original recipe I found is I added a lot more carrots. I just like carrots, like my Mom did. The original recipe only called for ¼ cup carrots…which is less than half a carrot. I often double to quadruple all vegetables called for in recipes.

Now then, I doubled the water from the original recipe. You want enough water that the split peas have time to break down, which leads to a thick soup. Adding the extra water at the start worked perfectly.

With the ham, no need to salt the soup, nor to use broth. The ham gives a lot of flavor.

Split Pea Soup

Ingredients:

  • 2 Tbsp oil
  • 1 large white or yellow onion, peeled and chopped
  • 1 pound ham steak, cubed*
  • 5 large carrots, or about 2 cups peeled and diced
  • 1 Tbsp minced garlic
  • ½ tsp ground black pepper
  • 8 cups water
  • 1 pound split peas (2 cups)

Directions:

Spread the split peas on a rimmed baking sheet and pick over them, looking for twigs, debris or hard looking peas (ones not split). Place in a fine mesh strainer, rinse well.

In a large stockpot, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add in the onion and ham, saute until the onions are golden.

Add in the carrots and garlic, cook for another couple minutes.

Pour in the water, bring to a boil.

Add in the black pepper and peas, stir well.

Cover and return to a boil. Lower heat and simmer mostly covered over medium-low heat, stirring periodically for 45 minutes. I stirred it about every 5 minutes to ensure no scorching as the peas cooked.

Notes:

A pound is generous for the ham. Does it need that much? No. In the Great Depression they would have used ham hocks for flavor and tiny bit of meat. But since I had it on hand, by all means use plenty. You could also cook bacon with the onion, pull out the bacon, and cook the peas, then add the bacon, chopped up, back in at the end.

Adding in potatoes, cubed, would make the soup even more heartier as well.

~Sarah

Great Depression Era Recipes – The Series
Prepping · Recipes

Great Depression Era Recipes – The Series

Sarah

I don’t feel old most days, until I talk with people whose grandparents were born in the 1960’s. Then I feel oh so old. My Father was born in 1939, at the end of the Great Depression. Though the Great Depression left Eastern Montana a lot later than it did in the Eastern cities of the United States. His Dad, my paternal grandfather, was born in 1918. They bounced around, sometimes on the family cattle ranch, which sat in the middle of nowhere, living a life of severe poverty, and other times just being. Life wasn’t ever easy those years. They were travelers often. Elmer, my grandfather, was a complicated man. He was a bitter man to say the least. He was in my life always as a child. He showed up 6 months after my parents got married in his pickup truck that had a camper on the back and never left….till he died. I was 13 or 14 when that happened. I am solid middle of the road Gen X.

I am not sure when this photo was taken. I’d have to think my Dad was around 18 to 20 in it. So maybe in the late 1950’s.

My Mother was a War baby, born in 1944. Life was still wonky even in those years. It wasn’t till the 1950’s that the economy was good, for she grew up in an agriculture valley. She had it better than my Dad though. Her Dad was a business owner. They lived middle class. But oddly I grew up eating Depression recipes. I think it was the long time housekeeper her family had (Nana didn’t cook, and was working in the business). Because as I looked at the recipes, I realized my Mom had learned them from someone. At some point.

I was reading a post recently of “Depression Recipes” and I realized I had grown up on these recipes. One of my first memories is eating milk toast, which I hated, but my grandfather loved. He and his second wife often would go poach the local fruit trees and bring back tons of Italian Plums. He’d get Mabel, my step-grandmother, to make him cooked plums, cooking the plums down till it was a soft mess. I did like eating that at least. But the milk toast? I will never understand that one, although a friend said it was popular in areas where bread dried out rock hard in a day, with low humidity. Considering Eastern Montana is very dry, that explained a lot.

I may not have liked Old Man Elmer very much (and almost no one did, for he was an epic jerk in general), he left a legacy of foraging. That man was willing to eat anything he found, rather than to spend money. In later years my Dad talked a lot about his upbringing and how they hunted all over Montana. Be it in a National Forest or Park…that didn’t stop them in the 1940’s. Hunger is a good incentive to chance meeting the game warden. The Depression stayed around for a very long time for much of the US.

The recipes I am going to be posting as a series the next few weeks are all ones I ate as a child and teenager, and honestly? Sometimes I still eat them. They are simple and fill your stomach. And can be made as a bigger batch to serve bigger families. And every one of these recipes was eaten by my parents and their parents for years. I picked out the recipes I have personally used/eaten and cleaned up the directions for modern times. I have quite a few to make and share, this will be a fun series. Consider it a prepping/prepper series if you will. How to make food stretch. And fill the bellies.

But for our first…we will start with the one recipe that I remember eating at 4 years old….in a little house on the hill, in a town that never quite left the olden days. It was still stuck in the logging days of long ago. I’ve gone back and it still feels that way.

The recipe I hated.

Milk Toast

Ingredients:

2 cups of cold whole milk
2 Tbsp butter
6 slices thick bread, preferably stale day old, homemade or rustic bread

Directions:

Place a large skillet over medium heat. Melt butter in the skillet. Add the bread, and brown it on both sides.

Lower the heat, pour in milk, and let the bread absorb it. Remove bread from the pan when the milk is warm. Add salt and pepper to serve.

Eggs can also be added to the skillet to poach in the milk.

This can also be made with a little condensed milk and a dash of brandy for a sweet, dessert like dish.

My grandfather would serve it with Italian plums he cooked down into a thick sauce. Usually poured over the gross mess of bread and milk. Meanwhile my Father would wax on about how how “when I was young I could buy my milk with cream on top”. Who knew I’d end up being his twin in that late in life.

~Sarah