Homemade Labaneh (Labneh)

Labaneh was something my Palestinian mom has always eaten regularly with fervor, often serving it as a makeshift dinner alongside other simple dishes like sauteed tomatoes, hummus, and scrambled eggs when we didn’t really feel like cooking. But while I grew up eating labaneh, it took time for my own appreciation to grow because as a kid, I hated it. 

When I first wrote about labaneh (also frequently spelled "labneh"), the opportunity to develop a recipe presented itself. My editors were enthusiastic, my parents were excited, and I, on the other hand, was a ball of nervousness. I consider myself a capable home cook, but turning milk into a completely different ingredient was intimidating to me. As a result, I put off developing this recipe for almost a year. 

Eventually I mustered up the courage and turned to Daniel’s homemade yogurt recipe, which would serve as the basis for this labaneh recipe—much of the initial labaneh process is the same as any other yogurt. Where labaneh differs is first that it’s strained, which removes whey from the yogurt and thickens it to a rich and creamy consistency, similar to cream cheese. Yogurt can be strained to make different types of strained yogurt like Greek yogurt, but labaneh should be strained even further to achieve a thick, spreadable consistency. Equally importantly, labaneh is seasoned with salt, which is another key characteristic that distinguishes it from Greek and other strained yogurts.

Daniel's yogurt instructions were simple enough, so I told myself I’d try making it once just to see what happened, and that if it didn’t work out, I’d give myself time to work out any kinks.

I grabbed a large pot, a half gallon of milk, and a thermometer and got to work. Scalding the milk, an essential first step when making yogurt, turned out to be quite therapeutic. The goal is to bring it up to between 180 and 190°F and hold it there for at least ten and up to 30 minutes. This not only drives off some water, concentrating the milk, but also alters the milk's proteins, resulting in a silkier final yogurt.

After cooling the milk to about 110°F, a low enough temperature to introduce the live cultures that will turn the milk into yogurt without killing them, I then stirred in a couple tablespoons of yogurt. Once I got to that point, the rest of the recipe was in the hands of fate, or biology, really. It was also a test of my patience: The now cultured milk needed to inoculate overnight. I put it in a jar, wrapped a towel around it, and left it in the oven with the light turned on, saying a silly little prayer in hopes that it would all go well.

The next morning, I ran to the kitchen to check in on my experiment. I opened the oven to find what I had been hoping and praying for: yogurt. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, given that I followed the directions, but the whole process felt like magic.

From there, I grew confidence. I let the yogurt sit out at room temperature for the rest of the day, then transferred it to the fridge overnight. The next morning, I began the day-long straining process to remove excess whey from the yogurt and thicken it to labaneh's proper consistency.

What I found the next morning was a thick, spreadable yogurt, drained of much of its whey, that was reminiscent of the labaneh I was familiar with. Once I added salt, it was everything my taste buds could have ever dreamed of. I was immediately brought back to those childhood dinners, now savoring every bite instead of detesting it. Making labaneh from start to finish was a practice in trust and a test of my patience, and I happily succeeded. 

The real mark of success though? My mom took one bite and told me my homemade labaneh was better than the store-bought version we’d been eating for years. That alone is enough to get me back in the kitchen, because not only is labaneh a part of my life, now homemade labaneh is too.

I started off with 56.5 ounces of yogurt and finished with 25.3 ounces of labaneh (which came out to 2 ⅔ cups), but the beginning and end weights can vary. For salting, I added ¾ teaspoon of salt, but it’s best to start off small and add more to your liking, otherwise you risk oversalting.