The wild blackberries are ripening early, blistering under this relentless western drought, three weeks before their custom at cross-quarter. In another day or two, the plums will be ripe enough. I’ll pick some low-hanging fruit for a jar of jam before the deer take them all, or they wither on the branch and fall. With the third cutting of rhubarb, I loped off the parasol leaves and washed the thick pink stalks under the hose.
There is no rain in the forecast. The dog is dumbfounded. Last week there was sparse early-morning dew with a phantom scent of rain, little else. We walk early and then I water the garden.
I made a galette, a rough shaggy pastry of almond meal, a stone so-called in the old French. The blueberries went in, the two nectarines I bought that ripened too fast on the counter, a shake of nutmeg and sherry. I dreamed about rain. I dreamed of abalone and mother-of-pearl.
Kim K. McCrea 
Beautiful pastry! Almond crust sounds divine with these fruits—recipe?
I made an apricot tart this morning for lunch guests and sent them home with the leftovers. I mean to use the leftover apricots with fresh chèvre tomorrow.
Last night both my husband and I dreamt about our Afghan Hounds because we are sorting through the file cabinet and found photos we’d forgotten.
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Love that peach/nectarine and berry combo. What’s better than a fruit tart dessert in the heat? Nada. Especially topped with a dollop of vanilla frozen yogurt—or crème fraîche, hang the price.
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A shave of vanilla bean ice cream, exactly. It was amazing
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The galette looks delicious!
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Your galette sounds and looks delicious, Kim.
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Kim, we’re dreaming and praying for rain here too. Hope we both get some soon.
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Looks delecious
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