The Berries of Summer

Illustration: Jeremy Ruiz

What’s more welcoming on a languid hot summer day than a tart, pungent surge of bountiful berry flavor, jewel-toned beads bursting, quenching heat and thirst, sending one’s taste buds into a grateful sun salutation? (Ok – so maybe a glass of crisp chilled rosé, or a frothy cold beer if that’s what you’re into, but I ask you to just go with me here). 

When my kids were young, just as soon as school let out for summer, we'd pack off to visit my parents in Vermont. Home to a rapscallion maze-like plot of twisty-turny, bendy-flowy raspberry bushes, which the kids, us in tow (let’s face it, we, too, had a perhaps not-so-well-disguised vested interest), would run down the field to check soon after we arrived. Years before, my mother’s across-the-road neighbor had offered her some starts to plant after pruning back her own bushes. Decades later, long, verdant, mature rows peered at us when we gazed out the dining room windows; we could chart their daily development even from inside the house. 

We’d wait and wait and wait, checking as the little berry babies turned from green to white to blush, go to Nantucket, come back and wait some more, until that magical August moment, when, like oysters offering their pearls, the crinkly green leaves revealed their bejeweled treasures. Out we’d go with our berry baskets, competing with the birds, bees, and bears for the harvest. 

The kids would pick until their fingers and lips were ruby-stained, bobbing and weaving between the rows in a rhythmic dance, undeterred by the ever-present thorns and sticky branches. Hypnotic. Always reaching for the next one. And the next. As many as we could eat, there were always more. 

So what to do with more? Make a quick jam, a compote with a splash of lime juice, crushed chamomile, and a hint of vanilla. And then, bake the crown jewel of the harvest – the berry galette. Just this spring, a neighbor of mine, pruning her own bushes, offered me some of her starts one day when we passed each other on our road. The symmetrical, inexplicable, cyclical rhythm of life. My babies are grown, one gone, but my juvenile starts are stretching, inching up, growing and basking in the sun by the pool fence. And I, too, now wait for the moment when they will inevitably bear their bounty and flourish. Pick, eat, make some jam and a tart. Rinse and repeat. 

SUMMER BERRY GALETTE

Yield: A roughly 12-inch rustic galette, depending on how thick or thin you like your crust. Your tart. Your choice.

INGREDIENTS

DOUGH FOR CRUST

• 1 1/4 C (160 g) all-purpose flour

• 1/2 TSP table salt

• 1 1/2 TSP granulated sugar

• Zest of half a lemon or lime

• 8 TBSP (113 g) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

• 1/4 C ricotta or plain yogurt

• 4 TBSP ice water

FILLING

• 3 1/2 C berries (raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, follow your bliss, combine them if you want, add a little fresh rosemary or basil, crush and mix in some dried chamomile buds). School’s out for summer, no rules, no rules!  

• 3 to 4 TBSP granulated sugar to taste

• 1 ½ TBSP cornstarch for all berries, except for blueberries – in which case ½ TBSP

• Juice of half a lemon or lime, whatever you’ve zested

• Pinch of salt

METHOD

Make dough:

1. Whisk flour, salt, sugar, and zest together in a large bowl. Work the butter into the flour with a pastry blender (or between your fingertips, or by pulsing 9 or 10 times in a food processor if you must) until mixture resembles summer beach sand, with some bits of butter the size of small peas.

2. Stir together ricotta (or yogurt) and 4 tablespoons ice water in a small dish, and drizzle over mixture. Stir with a fork (or pulse a couple of more times) until dough comes together – you’re not aiming for a smooth cookie-type batter here — you’ll see streaks of butter and/or ricotta; that’s just as it should be. If dough is still too dry and crumbly, slowly and carefully mix in up to another tablespoon of ice water, a little at a time, making sure it doesn’t become overly sticky. You want to be able to form a ball, but not a sodden one.

3. Turn dough onto a length of plastic wrap, knead once or twice and flatten with the heels of your palms into a thin disc. Chill in the fridge for about an hour until it hardens up a bit (you can also store the disc in the fridge for a day or two). If you’re impatient, or if your guests are on their way over, firm the dough in the freezer for 15 minutes.

Assemble galette: 

1. Heat oven to 400ºF. Center oven rack. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. Roll out the crust into a large round-ish shape, about 12-14" across, no need to be precise, shape your galette however you’d like. I find it easiest and quickest to roll the dough directly on the parchment, sandwiching it between the parchment and the plastic wrap you’ve used for chilling, but if you’d like to be more traditional, lightly flour your work surface, roll out the crust and then transfer it to your baking sheet. I said it before, and I’ll say it again:
your tart, your choice.

3. Mix berries and the rest of the filling ingredients in a medium bowl just to coat, then tumble it all in the center of the crust, leaving a 2" border. Fold the border over the filling, nipping and tucking the dough into place, making sure to seal as best you can to prevent berry juices from oozing out while baking.

4. Bake galette for about 30 minutes, checking at 20, then 25 minutes, until crust is golden and crisp-looking, and fruit is bubbly. Remove from the oven onto a cooling rack and let stand for at least 5 minutes, then gently ease the galette onto a serving plate when you’re ready to serve. Eat it plain, or it pairs perfectly with softly whipped cream, a dollop of crème fraîche, or really good, softened vanilla ice cream – all the better on a sultry summer evening. 

You’ll likely eat the galette in one go, with family, with friends, with ice cream, but in case there are leftovers, you can wrap tightly in foil and refrigerate (or leave on the countertop as long as it’s not too hot, under foil or a cake dome). The galette’s crust will absorb the juices overnight and become much soggier, but nonetheless as delicious as a new summer day.

Suzi Schiffer Parrasch is a reformed network television news producer who, when not browning butter, bakes, runs, skis, writes, edits, and consults (even when no one is asking).