the ideal kind of day

blueberry galette | the merry gourmet

A geriatric dog, a yellow lab, greeted us in the shade of the oak trees that bordered the orderly rows of blueberry bushes. She eased herself up off the ground and began slowly wagging her tail. Her movements were hindered by arthritis or old age, or maybe she just didn’t care to hurry.  I didn’t blame her. It was a beautiful Saturday morning on the blueberry farm. There was a warm breeze and only an occasional cloud in the sky. It was the ideal kind of day to take things in stride.

The man standing behind the folding table seemed to be in charge of berry sales. His table was piled with several stacks of large white buckets, a kitchen scale, a pile of white plastic grocery bags, and an open ledger. The tinkling of wind chimes arrived with the breeze. The man wore plaid, as farmers in storybooks do, but he was in his late twenties, or maybe early thirties, and had a head full of coal-black hair. He handed us two buckets, one for each kid, which would hold six pounds of blueberries each.

“They’re $6 a pound,” he said. “But don’t go overboard. A family earlier this morning filled four buckets to the top. They weren’t happy when I told them they owed $144.”

We thanked him for his warning, and I made a mental note to monitor our haul a little more closely. The kids, each swinging a bucket, led the way to the rows of blueberry bushes. We passed another plaid-wearing farmer along the way, a man who resembled the berry salesman but who was at least forty years older and walked with a limp.

“You know you got to try the berries on each bush before you pick from it, right?” he said with a grin on his face, his eyes bright with mirth. “How else will you know that the blueberries are good ones?”

The kids looked at him hesitantly, pondering this, and then nodded in unison.

fresh blueberries

We took the old farmer’s advice that day, as we plucked the ripest blueberries off their clusters to fill our buckets. It was nearly lunchtime, after all, and an opportune time for a snack. The darkest and largest of the berries were a deep indigo, nearly black in color, and the size of a nickel. These were our favorite to sample and the sweetest of them all. The smaller, dime-sized berries were sweet in a more subtle way, especially if their dark blue color was uniform. Occasionally we snagged a blueberry with a hint of magenta on its underside. We learned quickly to fish these under-ripe berries out of our buckets and toss them away, for the birds or the bugs to devour later.

As we picked, lifting branches to peer inside each bush (where the best berries hid in the shade from intrusive fingers), the kids and I deliberated on dishes we would make with the blueberries. Smoothies topped the list of suggestions, but a dessert was desired by both of my children.

“You should make a blueberry pie, Mommy,” said my Oliver.

A blueberry pie would be wonderful, of course. Or maybe a blueberry cobbler? Or blueberry ice cream? Blueberry muffins were a no-brainer. I considered a blueberry tart.

“I have another idea,” I said to Oliver. “I think you’ll like it.”

He liked it very much, in fact. We all liked it very much. The blueberry galette was the ideal dessert for that ideal kind of day.

blueberry galette | the merry gourmet

Yield: 8 servings

Blueberry Galette

I’ve used my favorite pie crust recipe for this recipe, but if you prefer to use a store-bought, rolled pie-crust, feel free to do so as a time saving step. The homemade crust, though, really elevates this galette to a new, more delicious, level.


Ingredients for All-Butter Crust:

3 cups (375 grams) all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons (43 grams) granulated sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
2-1/4 sticks (18 tablespoons; 257 grams) unsalted butter, very cold and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 cup water
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1 cup ice

Ingredients for Galette:

1 pound (3 cups) fresh blueberries
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (100 grams) granulated sugar
Pie dough for one 9-inch pie
1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
Egg wash (1 large egg whisked together with 1 teaspoon water)
Coarse sugar (such as Demerara or Turbinado), for finishing


Make Pie Crust Dough:

Whisk together in a large bowl the flour, sugar, and salt. Add the cubes of butter and toss with the flour, coating the butter pieces with flour. Using a pastry blender, cut the butter into the flour until pea-size pieces of butter remain.

Combine the water, cider vinegar, and ice into a small bowl. Add 2 tablespoons of the liquid to the flour mixture; mix together with a bench scraper, spatula, or your hands. Continue to add more of the ice water to the flour, 1 or 2 tablespoons at a time, mixing until the dough comes together. If the dough is still crumbly with dry bits, add a little more ice water and continue to mix and bring together the dough into a ball.

Divide the dough in half, form each half into a flat disc, and wrap each well in plastic wrap. Refrigerate overnight (or at least 1 hour) before rolling.

NOTE: For the Galette recipe below, you will only need one of the discs; the other can be refrigerated for 3 days or frozen for up to 1 month.

Make Galette:

Heat oven rack to 425 degrees, with oven rack in middle position. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat.

Stir together blueberries, cornstarch, lemon zest and juice, salt, and granulated sugar in a large bowl until combined.

On a lightly floured surface, roll pie dough out into a roughly 12-inch circle. Carefully transfer the pastry round to the center of the parchment-lined baking sheet. Spoon the blueberry filling into the center of the pastry, leaving a 1-1/2 inch border around the edge. Fold the edges of the dough over the filling, pinching the dough tightly together at the seams, while leaving the opening in the center. Chill in the freezer for at least 15 minutes. After the rest in the freezer, dot the blueberry filling with the butter pieces, lightly brush pastry with the egg wash, then sprinkle the pastry with coarse sugar. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until blueberry filling is bubbling and pastry is golden. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Galette is barely adapted from this recipe from Gourmet, July 2004. The use of cider vinegar in the pie crust was inspired by the The Four & Twenty Blackbirds Pie Book all butter crust recipe.

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65 Responses to “a long overdue story, and a recipe for blueberry cobbler”

  1. 1
    Eva Canitano — June 22, 2011 @ 4:35 pm

    Thank you for your honesty and transparency. Such a difficult subject to talk about but I would imagine you will help someone who has remained silent for too many years. In addition, I love the recipe and hope I can share that with someone who needs it as well.

  2. 2
    Nancy@acommunaltable — June 22, 2011 @ 4:45 pm

    Hi MJ!

    To be honest, I have never understood why we treat mental illness any differently than any other chronic physical illness – but we do – and as you said, we shouldn’t!!
    I am so glad that you shared your story – I think there is so much truth in the saying that “a burden shared is a burden lightened” .

  3. 3
    Jennie — June 22, 2011 @ 4:46 pm

    Thanks for sharing this MJ. My sister has been on a variety of meds most of her adult life to deal with manic-depression. Before any of that was diagnosed, she attempted suicide numerous times and often found herself in bad, hurtful relationships, both mentally and physically. It was very hard for me to accept that chemistry played such a big factor in her behavior, and I still feel angry sometimes that my daughters don’t get to have a “normal” aunt like most of their friends.

  4. 4
    DessertForTwo — June 22, 2011 @ 4:47 pm

    Oh my lands, honey. This is such a beautiful story. I’m so glad you wrote it out. Thanks for drawing attention to mental illness and talking about it with such honesty. Your Mom is a Saint, but I’m sure you already know this 🙂

  5. 5
    Janis — June 22, 2011 @ 4:49 pm

    Thanks for putting it out there. I am sure your story will make someone else feel less alone. I also now will crave blueberry cobbler and will think of your mom when I eat it :–)

  6. 6
    Jayne — June 22, 2011 @ 4:51 pm

    MJ what a moving story. I do love the sound
    of your cobbler! I think I’ve just found my July 4th dessert!

  7. 7
    Mardi@eatlivetravelwrite — June 22, 2011 @ 4:52 pm

    MJ – what a beautiful story. Thank you so much for sharing, I know that must have been very hard to write but hopefully you feel a little relief having it “out there”. I agree that mental illness affects so many people but it’s so hush hush. It needs to be more out in the open and acceptable to talk about. I hope your mum enjoyed this beautiful cobbler. Hugs to you and your family. XOX

  8. 8
    spiceblogger — June 22, 2011 @ 4:52 pm

    It takes so much courage to speak of personal issues of this nature, and even more to write about it and post it for the world to see. So many people suffer or struggle in silence. I’m sure your story will strike a chord with someone and maybe offer a venue for open dialogue that they didn’t have before.

    Your blueberry cobbler looks divine. I’m sure your mother enjoyed it. 🙂

  9. 9
    Maggie at Eat Boutique — June 22, 2011 @ 4:53 pm

    MJ, I feel for you and all the folks this affects. Thinking of you. There’s more than blueberry in that cobbler. There’s tons of love.

  10. 10
    Gail — June 22, 2011 @ 5:01 pm

    In this day and age, you’d think we’d be dealing with mental illness in a more enlightened way, but we haven’t. Even with so many of us dealing with it in one way or another in our own families, it’s still whispered or not mentioned.
    Hats off to you for telling the story and bringing the cobbler to your mother.


  11. 11
    Chris @ The Peche — June 22, 2011 @ 5:04 pm

    I just love you, MJ. I can’t write much more without crying and I’m sitting in a crowded airport. Love.

  12. 12
    Macaroni Mama — June 22, 2011 @ 5:09 pm

    A very moving story, Merry Jennifer.

  13. 13
    George Samuelson — June 22, 2011 @ 5:10 pm

    Coming to terms with mental illness can often be as challenging for the family as it can be for member affected…having the courage to speak openly is pretty awesome… I thank you for sharing

  14. 14
    Ethan — June 22, 2011 @ 5:12 pm

    Thank you for sharing. There’s so much we don’t know about each other and I think you connected all of us a little more today.
    I’m glad you delivered the cobbler:)

  15. 15

    I do appreciate your opening up to your readers and sharing some of those ‘family secrets’ with the world. I have great empathy but no desire to do the same thing, thinking that it’s a burden on readers. Yet once, when I mentioned as sparingly as possible the trauma of growing up with an alcoholic I was surprised at how much people seemed to identify and share. I guess it’s easy to be in that same space I knew as a girl; if I never say anything than no one knows because…well, everyone else has a perfect life and mine is not.

    As adults we know that is not true and that those commonalities we are willing to share, while not looking for sympathy, can serve to help others who might also feel alone with their struggles make a dialogue easier to start and allow them to feel less alone.

    I’m sure you’ve done that today.

  16. 16
    Kim — June 22, 2011 @ 5:22 pm

    MJ – what a touching story. Bravo to you for sharing it. I agree with Nancy; a burden shared is a burden lightened. 🙂


  17. 17
    Kimmie — June 22, 2011 @ 5:33 pm

    Such a touching story. Mom’s rarely ask for anything, it’s such a blessing when we can deliver a slice of comfort to them! Thanks for sharing, MJ.

  18. 18
    LiztheChef — June 22, 2011 @ 6:05 pm

    You are one terrific daughter…

  19. 19
    Lori — June 22, 2011 @ 6:06 pm

    You are a healer in every sense of the word. Healing through your profession, your writing and through food. What a gift.

  20. 20
    Miss @ Miss in the Kitchen — June 22, 2011 @ 6:07 pm

    I admire your openness, and what an inspiration your Mother must be. Food is such a great connection and comfort between us all.

  21. 21
    Audrey — June 22, 2011 @ 6:15 pm

    MJ, as you know, I’ve lived with mental illness for as long as I can remember. It is really a part of my everyday life and it sucks. I’m glad that you are able to talk about it. I’m sure that you feel some relief from being able to open up about things that I’ve only heard a small amount about. It is a shame that some people don’t want to talk or hear about it but I’m glad you had the courage to tell this story. <3 Audrey

  22. 22
    carolineadobo — June 22, 2011 @ 6:16 pm

    Thank you for your story. Hoping your story will make others in the same situation to do the same and speak out.

  23. 23
    Sherry — June 22, 2011 @ 6:41 pm

    All of you have been so strong. I admire that. Love you.

  24. 24
    domenicacooks — June 22, 2011 @ 6:48 pm

    Beautifully written. I’m sure it was a difficult piece to write and even more hard to publish, so thank you for having the courage to share it.

  25. 25
    Barbara — June 22, 2011 @ 6:49 pm

    We all know somebody struggling with some type of mental illness. It’s so hard for everyone involved. You mother is an extraordinary woman with an extraordinary daughter.

  26. 26
    Lana — June 22, 2011 @ 7:02 pm

    When I was growing up, I knew of a few “brothers'” who suffered from schizophrenia, all of them young, brilliant, and in most cases beautiful. My father was a surgeon, and we were raised to look at mental illness like any other illness. It hurts when people who do not understand start passing judgment.
    You are a brave and loving sister to share the story and your brother with us. We need more people like you to come out and stop being ashamed.
    A big hug for you from SoCal:)

  27. 27
    Kate @ Savour Fare — June 22, 2011 @ 7:03 pm

    Oh MJ, this post made me cry.

  28. 28
    Aimee @ Simple Bites — June 22, 2011 @ 7:53 pm

    What a brave post, MJ. I believe this will help a lot of people. And your mom sounds amazing!

  29. 29
    The Yummy Mummy — June 22, 2011 @ 8:00 pm

    I loved you before. Now I just love you more. xo

  30. 30
    Amelia from z tasty life — June 22, 2011 @ 8:09 pm

    Your mom stands out in this story as she deserves a cobbler of hugs, love and serenity. You seems to know what she needs. You are brave and strong and desere some love cobbler too…

  31. 31
    Rachel @ Not Rachael Ray — June 22, 2011 @ 9:31 pm

    Sounds like your mom deserves blueberry cobbler and more. Sounds like you do too. Thanks for sharing this, I’m sure it wasn’t easy.

  32. 32
    Renée J. (RJ Flamingo) — June 22, 2011 @ 10:23 pm

    Thank you for sharing, MJ. I know you touched a chord in many people with this post, and with that, shed more light on an illness that should be thought of as a medical condition, just like any other. I know that cobbler tasted sweeter to your Mom with every bite. {{{Hugs}}}

  33. 33
    Irvin at Eat the Love — June 22, 2011 @ 11:52 pm

    Thank you for this post. Too many people try to ignore or sweep under the rug mental illness. It’s funny how in this day and age, it’s such a taboo subject. I’m so glad you shared your story with us all…

  34. 34
    Amy — June 23, 2011 @ 12:18 am

    God bless you and your family.

  35. 35
    Helene — June 23, 2011 @ 2:08 am

    I loved you before but I love you even more now. You and your family inspire compassion and love.

  36. 36
    Jessica @ How Sweet — June 23, 2011 @ 7:25 am

    Thank you so much for sharing your story. My husband and I both have mental illness in our extended family and it is something we deal with often. You are incredible.

  37. 37
    Brian @ A Thought For Food — June 23, 2011 @ 7:30 am

    You may not want sympathy, my dear, but it is inevitable. Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us (which was so beautifully written, it brought tears to my eyes).

    I have no doubt that you are a loving and caring sister… and your mother sounds like a saint.

    And is there anything that can make people smile more than a scoop of cobbler? I really don’t think so. A sweet note after a very touching story.

  38. 38
    Ken⏐hungry rabbit — June 23, 2011 @ 7:31 am

    Thanks for telling the story and let us into your life. Your courage is inspiring.

  39. 39
    Sanjeeta kk — June 23, 2011 @ 7:34 am

    Very touching and eye opening real life story indeed! Thanks for sharing a part of your life with us, MJ. It inspires a lot.

  40. 40
    Jackie Gordon Singing Chef — June 23, 2011 @ 7:35 am

    Thanks for having the courage to share this story. Revealing the family “secret” is inspiring to others who may have mental illness or some other challenge that they NEVER talk about.

    Your strength and the amazing fortitude of your mom have much more power revealed and acknowledged as a testimony to you and a message to other people that they don’t have to carry their burdens alone and suffer in silence.

    I don’t know if you mom is going to read this, but if she does, let her know that she’s an inspiration.

  41. 41
    Ilke — June 23, 2011 @ 8:05 am

    What a wonderful womam your mom is!! People like your mom make me realize that the daily things we complain are nothing and we should be grateful for what we have.

  42. 42

    It must have taken a lot of courage to hit “publish” and put that out into the world. Best wishes to you all–especially your mom, with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She deserves all the blueberry cobbler she can get!

  43. 43
    Snippets of Thyme — June 23, 2011 @ 8:38 am

    How very brave of you to share your painful experience with discovering your brother’s condition. The good that will come out of this is that we will all be more vigilant about our own understanding of this disease; perhaps some one out there will catch the symptoms/behavior you described and be able to help a loved one. I wish I could give you a great big hug!! You have a lot on your shoulders and are certainly more than capable of helping your family when they need you!

  44. 44
    amy k. — June 23, 2011 @ 8:55 am

    Such a moving story. Thank you for sharing.

  45. 45
    Paula — June 23, 2011 @ 10:02 am

    I’m so glad that you wrote and published this post and I only wish that more people who are dealing with schizophrenia within their families would do the same. Mental illness, while being more openly discussed in some circles still needs to be more in the mainstream. It’s the only way the stigma attached to it will be removed.
    I know what you and your family have gone through and are going through with your brother having had a brother myself with schizophrenia. My parents were as yours in that they would not discuss it outside of the family and rarely ever within it. They felt that people would believe that their son having schizophrenia was somehow a reflection on their parenting skills.
    I recently had an opportunity to bake cookies for a fundraiser for our local Psychiatric Hospital’s Mental Health Foundation and in doing so, I did a post about my brother. The response from some of the readers, while heart-rendering, just highlighted the fact that so many families are suffering with this affliction and while they know they are not alone, feel as they are. The more we openly discuss mental illness the smaller the *elephant in the room* will get.
    Your cobbler is beautiful! Best wishes to your family.

  46. 46
    les — June 23, 2011 @ 10:57 am

    Thank you for sharing your story. As I was reading it, I could tell where it was going, as my 22 year old daughter just had a psychotic event a few months ago. We are just finding out now she is bipolar. I couldn’t agree more that mental illness needs to be treated like any other disease and talked about openly so people who have never gone through this understand and can maybe even recognise the symptoms in a loved one before they have a full blown psychotic event.

  47. 47
    Mary Constant — June 23, 2011 @ 11:35 am

    Merry, This is such a sad story about some very brave folks. Your family has been through some very hard times, especially your mother who is the ultimate caregiver, and your brother, who suffers from a terrible disease. Here in the Napa Valley, the Staglin family who own that winery put on a Annual Music Festival for Mental Health (Sept 10). Shari and Garen’s own son, Brandon, was diagnosed with schizophrenia and has been on the path to containing the disease. Happily , he is now able to live a “normal” life, even working at the winery. Three years ago, he married…an incredibly joyous occasion.

  48. 48
    Jen @ My Kitchen Addiction — June 23, 2011 @ 2:26 pm

    Lovely post… Thanks for sharing! I know you are one of the strongest women I know, and it sounds like your mom is, as well. I’m sure she enjoyed the cobbler… Sometimes the small things really make a big difference. It looks lovely.

  49. 49
    Shirley — June 23, 2011 @ 3:30 pm

    Thanks for sharing! I know that was hard but it was a lovely and tearful post. You do have a wonderful family and all the small things do make a difference.

  50. 50
    Carrie Fields — June 23, 2011 @ 4:18 pm

    thank you for sharing. It is a beautiful and painful and hopeful story. I am part of a family effected by Bi-Polar disorder (I have it as well) and it is hard when there is a stigma attached to the person.
    (plus the recipe looks amazing) give your family a giant hug for me and make sure you get one too!

  51. 51
    Kulsum at JourneyKitchen — June 23, 2011 @ 4:25 pm

    that’s such a powerful story. Thanks for sharing and bringing focus and awareness about mental illness which is so misunderstood even today. And i guess i know why your very special mom wants this cobbler! Its beautiful

  52. 52
    Jenni — June 23, 2011 @ 4:52 pm

    You’re a great daughter. If you hadn’t had that argument w/your brother, who knows how much longer his diagnosis would be delayed.

    Interesting to me, as a psych major in undergrad, that you already were heading towards a possible career in psychiatry even before your brother was diagnosed.

    Cobbler can go a long way to soothing frayed nerves. I’m sure it was exactly what your mom needed.

  53. 53
    Macaroni Mama — June 23, 2011 @ 5:10 pm

    I have read all of the comments on your beautifully written post. I want to thank ALL of your friends who think I am a saint. I’m not. Caregiving is not a profession any of us wants, certainly after I retired after 46 years of teaching elementary school. Now I just take life one day…one hour…one minute of a time. The best part is having a wonderful daughter like MJ who obviously has friends across our nation who care about her. And by the way, I am a lousy cook.

  54. 54
    Cheryl Arkison — June 23, 2011 @ 5:46 pm

    Thank-you for sharing. You’re right, sometimes the story just needs to be told.
    Being the caregiver, or the caregiver for the caregiver is a tough, tough job. We all deserve a break. May it come in cobblers or walks or phone calls or even vacations. Always thinking of you, and now I’m adding your family to the list.

  55. 55
    Kristen — June 23, 2011 @ 5:50 pm

    Thank you so much for opening your life up to us and for sharing this. You have a strong family and a loving mama. Hugs to you all!

  56. 56
    Cookin' Canuck — June 23, 2011 @ 6:18 pm

    What a brave and touching story. I can only imagine how trying your mum’s job is and how much she appreciates having your strength behind her. Thank you for sharing your story.

  57. 57
    julieA — June 23, 2011 @ 7:39 pm

    I can see the LOVE in that blueberry cobbler….

  58. 58
    Heather in SF @HeatherHAL — June 24, 2011 @ 12:19 am

    I’m so glad you wrote about your brother, my sister is ill too and hardly anyone understands what we as a family go through, and what I go through personally as the little sister. It’s so complicated and not pretty and frankly exhausting. Family gatherings are fraught with questions: is it a good week, when will things erupt into a scene, can I relax, can I pretend things are normal for a while. Sounds selfish but sometimes I just need a break when there isn’t one coming. And what do we do when our parents pass away? This is the question that I have been pondering the most. But I don’t have answers, I just go cook or knit something to not think anymore. Hugs to you and your family.

  59. 59
    Chez Us — June 24, 2011 @ 2:06 am

    I admire people who share such brave stories of their life; makes them human, makes me admire them even more. You are a wonderful daughter, and sister for your continued support and love!

  60. 60
    Kita — June 26, 2011 @ 7:04 pm

    First, Your mother sounds like one hell of a woman. Second, thank you. My mother lived with mental illness and I can sympathize with how trying it can be on every member of a family. I don’t talk about it outside of the very few people that understood her – and sadly – that is very few. Not even all of her family bothered to understand her struggle. It is courageous of you to share such a thing to the world.

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  62. 61
    Deborah Mele — June 28, 2011 @ 3:25 pm

    Merry, I grew up with a Dad who was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia and refused treatment for most of my life. The few years he was on meds caused him to have strange side effects for years even after he stopped taking them. Life was a roller coaster living with my Dad, and NOT in a good way. My Mother thought it best if we hid the problem and we were told never to talk about it. I never brought friends home, and even had a hard time telling my husband about it. It is a disease however, and not something anyone would wish on themselves. We really need to have more patience and understanding for those with mental illness.

  63. 62
    Kay Tucker — July 3, 2011 @ 6:08 pm

    Bless your heart. My wish for you and your sweet Mom is for both of you to have the strength that is needed for these challenges.
    Thank you for sharing.

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