There's so much magic around me, I almost can't bear to take it all in. The lupine seeds have been collected for next year's planting – even the dead flower stalks they clung to were beautiful. The very first of the black eyed susans are coming to visit, a sunflower just began to peek forth from it's cocoon, a few of the radishes have gone to seed, ten foot black hollyhocks litter the entry way to the kitchen, and the very first of the clover flower is beginning to bust forth. 

It's almost more than I can handle. This farm, this life, has been a dream of mine for almost as long as I can remember. In our very first home together as a married couple, I began to taste organic produce, plant pea starts, and preserve the teeny bit of summer bounty we could grow in our single raised bed. 

I began to cook. And then it all made sense. 

That was over eight years ago now, and I've been nurturing this fire in my belly, this unquenchable thirst, ever since. 

As I was weeding at four thirty in the morning this past week, I began to question why, but none-the-less, here we are. Slipping in milking the cow and gently tilling and mulching the potato patch before the blazing sun crests over the mountain. 

The slivers of time for work this time of year are fleeting and one must constantly manage their time effectively to not melt in the summer sun, but rest assured, it can be done. This is where the magic really starts to happen. 

The tomato plants that we've been growing indoors since February are just now beginning to bring their first fruits. 

The basil is beginning to bush and generously show off it's plump leaves (perfect minced and sprinkled atop your morning omelette). 

Everywhere you look, there's a tendril clinging to a fence line, a rose giving forth the very best beauty it has to offer, and a bulb finally setting fruit. 

The rhubarb was no exception. 

Some of this rhubarb was planted last year, and another plant was set this year. We've been gently harvesting a few stalks at a time, so as not to disturb it's establishment. The few stalks that we did harvest were put to immediate use in this blueberry and rhubarb einkorn galette – my very favorite alternative to a pie. 

Essentially, though einkorn galette sounds fancy, it is essentially a pie. A thick einkorn crust envelops sweet, runny fruit of your choosing. I love it's rustic, non-fussy nature. Plus, I don't even have a pie pan (can you believe that?) making galettes the perfect free-form alternative. 

Blueberry & Rhubarb Einkorn Galette

Galette Dough

2 cups all-purpose einkorn flour (like this) (or sprouted whole-grain flours of choice)

3 tablespoons dehydrate whole sugar cane, or sweetener or choice

Generous pinch sea salt

8 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small cubes

1/4 cup ice water

 – Combine the flour, sugar, and sea salt together in a food processor. Pulse to combine and aerate.

 – Add in the cold butter cubes. Pulse to combine until the mixture reaches a sandy texture.

 – Add the water in, tablespoon by tablespoon, until the dough is just combined and sticks together when pinched. 

 – Gather all of the dough up into a ball, wrap in parchment paper, and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile…

Galette Filling

1 cup rhubarb, cut into small pieces

1 cub fresh blueberries

1/4 cup dehydrated whole sugar cane

1 tablespoon flour

 – Combine the rhubarb, blueberries, sugar, and flour together in a bowl. Stir to combine and coat the fruit in the flour, gently. Set aside. 

To assemble:

1 egg white

1 tablespoons dehydrated whole sugar cane

 – Remove the dough from the refrigerator and heavily dust a work surface. Use the palm of your hand to squish the dough into a rough circle shape before using a rolling pen to gently roll the dough ball into a 12″ round, dusting as necessary with flour to keep the dough from sticking. 

 – Place the rough on a sheet of parchment paper. 

 – Spoon the rhubarb and blueberry mixture into the center of the round, keeping a 3″ border along the outside of the dough free from fruit. Begin to use your fingers to gently fold the edge of the dough inwards towards the center of the circle, crimping and folding as necessary until all of the fruit is surrounded by the folded crust. 

 – Place the parchment paper and the galette onto a baking sheet.

 – Whip the egg white in a small bowl with a fork before carefully brushing it onto the pastry edges of the galette with a pastry brush. Sprinkle the pastry edges with the remaining 1 tablespoons of sugar. 

 – Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for 50 minutes or until set and golden. 

 – Allow the galette to cool before slicing and serving. 

It's almost impossible to totally let the galette cool before greedy little hands find their way to it's crispy, sugary crust. Fine… I'll admit… those greedy little hands are usually mine. But the way I see it – if I cook it, I get to eat it, man. And the role of taste-tester is not to be taken lightly around these parts. 

Oh – and so I can anticipate the questions that will surely follow, YES. You can absolutely sub in various fruits of your choosing- just adjust the sugar accordingly to your tastes. 

Want to know a secret? This recipe is involved with something really, really cool that I can't share yet. 

Isn't that lame? For someone to say “Hey! This is really awesome! Want to know what it is?” and you're all like “Uh, ya! Tell me.” and they're all like “Naw, sorry, man. I can't. But it's AWESOME.” and you're all like “What-ev dude.”

Sorry to be that kind of person. 

Just trust me. Major, life-altering goodness is coming from this recipe… and many others. 

And I consider myself blessed to share it with you… and many others. 

And Amen. 

If you like it, Share it!