Vegan Rhubarb Galette – ohlala!
You know it is time to welcome spring when forced rhubarb makes its way into our farmer’s markets. The alluring stalks a vibrant fuchsia, with a ruff of shrunken yellow leaves.
Rhubarb is a springtime superstar, injecting its mouth-puckering tartness into our desserts. We chop it up, and stew it down – it collapses into a compote of pale pink strands that we fold into whipped cream, or ripple throughout muffin batter. It adds a delightful sourness as we bite into sugary shortcrust; it bakes into a silky puree that cushions our spoons as we shatter through a crumble.
As a lover of all things astringent – I used to suck on wedges of lime as an afternoon snack – rhubarb delights me. You don’t get rhubarb in Singapore – or, rather, you do, but only if you are willing to pay a pretty penny for it. So I still remember my first taste of this celery-esque vegetable (not a fruit!) like it was yesterday. Because it practically was.
The first time I cooked with rhubarb, we had picked some up from the grocer at Borough Market the morning before, lured by their hue. We packed the long, slim stalks into our linen bags, with the pale leaves still peeking out from under our arms. Having never eaten or cooked with it before, compote seemed like a safe choice. So the stalks were stripped of their leaves, chopped into hot-pink batons and left in a saucepan to stew away, with a generous glug of maple syrup, some grated ginger, and a good pinch of cardamom powder.
My newfound love for rhubarb compelled me to consider applying for foundation training further North. Momentarily. If you know me, and my ardent affection for staying as warm as possible, you will appreciate how much proximity to the rhubarb triangle means to me. But for now, I will have to make do with the slightly overpriced rhubarb that make a fleeting appearance in the Wednesday markets here in Oxford.
If my first foray into cooking with rhubarb seemed untraditional (cardamom?), my second time was no better. Instead of stewing it down, and diluting its neon pinkness into a pale pastel, I decided to bake with it.
Now, baking with rhubarb is nothing new. It is often nestled into custard tarts and folded into a streusel-topped cake. But I paired mine with a frangipane made of sesame seeds – departing from the classic almond meal. The sesame frangipane is flavoured with (vegan) honey, an ode to halwa, my favourite middle-eastern dessert. Its creaminess tames the sherbet-sourness of the rhubarb.
The rhubarb itself is laced with the oily zest of a blood orange (although, failing that, a regular orange would work just as well), and sweetened lightly with a touch of demerara sugar. The sharp, tangy juice of the blood orange is reduced into a glaze – to be brushed on top of the fruit when out of the oven.
All this frangipane and fruit is encased in pastry to make a galette – free-form and effortlessly sexy. It is baked until your kitchen is saturated with the smell of caramelising fruit. Once the pie is out of the oven, it is a feast for your eyes before it is a feast for your belly. The rustic, crimped edges of the vegan rhubarb galette, rough with glittering sugar crystals, a beautiful contrast to the regular chevron of blushing rhubarb.
You will have to wait, just long enough for it to cool, before running a pizza wheel through it, slicing it into triangles. Eat your slice (and perhaps another after that) right to its mottled, golden edges.
- 1¼ cup plain flour
- ¼ tsp sea salt
- ½ cup vegan butter, cubed and chilled
- 3 tbsp ice cold water
- 1 tbsp dark rum, or more cold water
- 1 cup sesame seeds
- ¼ cup sugar
- 2 tbsp rice syrup
- 4 tablespoons vegan butter, softened
- 3 tbsp aquafaba
- 1 pinch salt
- 4 stalks rhubarb, chopped into 1½ inch batons (then again lengthwise)
- Zest of 1 blood orange*
- Juice of ½ a blood orange*
- 1 tbsp demerara sugar
- 1 tbsp aquafaba for brushing
- 2 tbsp sugar demerara for sprinkling
- 1 tbsp strawberry jam
- 1 tbsp remaining marinade from rhubarb
- If using storebought shortcrust, skip this step. To make the pastry, cut the cold butter into the flour with a pastry blender, fork or food processor. You can also use your hands to rub the butter in and break it up. When the butter has formed small pea-sized crumbs, slowly pour the the ice-cold water and rum in, a spoonful at a time, until a shaggy dough is formed which holds its shape when you press it (if necessary, add a teeny bit of extra water but try to use as little additional water as possible). Form a ball, wrap in cling film and let it rest in the fridge for at least 2 hours.
- Make the frangipane by adding all the ingredients to a blender, or food processor, and blending until a smooth paste forms. Place this in a bowl and set in the fridge to chill as you prep the other elements of the galette
- Chop each rhubarb baton lengthwise down the middle into two halves. Place them in a bowl and add the orange zest, juice, and sugar. Toss to coat well.
- Roll out your pastry into a large square, about ¼ inches thick. Use a pizza cutter or sharp knife to cut out a large circle, about 12-inches in diameter. Place this pastry circle on a parchment-lined baking tray.
- Spread out a thin layer of the frangipane on the pastry circle, don't spread the filling to the edge of the pastry, but leave about a 1½ inch border. Drain the rhubarb pieces (save the marinade for later) and arrange on top of the frangipane in a chevron pattern.
- Use the parchment to help fold the border up and over the edge of the rhubarb, pinching a seam at 2inch intervals. Chill for 30 min.
- minutes before the galette is done chilling, preheat the oven to 180C
- Remove from the fridge, and brush the pastry rim with aquafaba, and sprinkle on the sugar. Bake for 50-60 minutes until golden and the rhubarb is glossy.
- In a small bowl, mix the jam for the glaze with 1 tablespoon of the reserved rhubarb marinade. Microwave until bubbly, then brush over the rhubarb once the pastry has colled for about 20 minutes. You can also heat the glaze up in a small saucepan
Albert Bevia
This is one of the most beautiful tarts I have ever laid my eyes on…wow! and rhubarb is such an incredible vegetable…impressive recipe
Sasha Gill
thank you so much! x