makes one 9-inch galette 
The funny thing about galettes is that they are easier to make than a traditional pie, but feel substantially more elegant. These rustic free-form pies can be filled with any filling your heart desires, but this one in particular puts summer’s heirloom tomato bounty to delicious use. If you’re serving it as a main dish, you’ll probably want to make at least two. (Thankfully, making multiple galettes isn’t much more effort than making just one.) Purple, yellow, or bicolored heirloom tomatoes make for the most jaw-dropping presentation here, and be sure to select firm, ripe fruit to avoid a soggy crust.
DOUGH
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar, preferably organic whole cane sugar
¼ teaspoon fine sea salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cubed
4 to 6 tablespoons cold water
FILLING
2 to 3 ripe but firm medium tomatoes, thinly sliced
½ teaspoon fine sea salt
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
⅓ cup diced onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup ricotta cheese (here)
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
¼ cup chopped fresh basil leaves, plus more for topping
Balsamic vinegar
1 large egg, beaten (for wash)
Make the dough: In a large bowl, mix the flour, sugar, and salt together, then cut in the butter using a pastry blender or two knives (you can also use a food processor; see notes, here) until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the lesser amount of water and mix, adding the remaining water a teaspoon or two at a time if necessary, until the dough comes together and forms a ball. Press it into a disc, wrap the disc in plastic wrap, and chill in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour.
Make the filling: Place the tomato slices in a single layer on a large plate or baking sheet. Sprinkle with the salt and let sit for 30 minutes to draw as much water from the tomatoes as possible.
In a small skillet over medium heat, heat the oil and sauté the onion and garlic for about 6 minutes, until softened. Cool slightly in the skillet, then mix in the cheeses and basil.
Preheat the oven to 400°F.
Unwrap the dough and roll it into a 12-inch circle on a piece of parchment. Spread the cheese mixture in the center of the circle, leaving 2 inches of dough around the outer
edge. Arrange the tomato slices over the cheese mixture. A bit of overlap is okay, but don’t pile the tomatoes more than two layers high—the filling of a galette shouldn’t be heaped. Drizzle a few splashes of vinegar on top of the tomatoes.
Fold the edges up over the outside edge of the tomato layer one section at a time, overlapping as you go. Brush the edges of the crust with the egg and transfer the parchment with the galette onto a baking sheet or stone. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbly. Cool for 30 minutes and serve at room temperature.
kitchen notes • It’s not an absolute necessity, but using a food processor makes mixing pastry dough a snap. Give the dry ingredients a quick pulse, then add the butter and pulse until you see crumbs. Add the lesser amount of the water, pulse several times, then open the lid to see if the dough will stick together when you pinch it. If it does, remove it from the bowl of the processor and use your hands to gently press it together. If not, add the remaining water, a teaspoon or two at a time, and process for a few seconds after each addition until it comes together.
Thumb through an heirloom seed catalog, and you’ll be struck by the incredible diversity. There are purple carrots, black tomatoes, spotted beans, white beets, chocolate peppers, brick-red lettuce, and everything in between. I’m not sure when we started thinking that tomatoes are only red and beans are only green, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Heirloom seeds captured my imagination years ago and I haven’t looked back since. I grow them almost exclusively and I’ve had spectacular results—even here in dry, rugged Wyoming.
The exact definition of what constitutes an heirloom seed can vary a bit, but the term usually refers to varieties of plants at least fifty years old that are open-pollinated, which means that, unlike hybrid varieties, pollination occurs without human intervention.
Many of the vegetables we find in the supermarket have been selectively bred for high yields and their ability to handle transportation. Flavor often gets pushed aside in an effort to produce a tomato that doesn’t turn to mush sitting on a truck as it’s driven across the country. Heirlooms haven’t been subjected to this same sort of breeding, so not only have they kept their original, full flavors, but they often pack a heftier dose of nutrition too.
And then there are the stories.… It’s easy to get lost in a seed catalog as you pore over the captions for each plant. The seeds come from all over the globe—many have been passed down through generations or are old-time market varieties that have since fallen out of favor in modern supermarkets.
Adding heirlooms to the garden is something anyone can do, regardless of where you live or how much you like to garden. The seeds aren’t any more expensive than conventional ones, and unlike with hybrids, you can save seeds from heirloom plants to grow next year. Plant a bit of history next growing season and help carry on the work of the many gardeners who have come before us.