Make Labneh at Home with Just Two Ingredients

Labneh has quietly slipped into the everyday kitchens of Sydney and Melbourne, often spotted on weekend brunch tables alongside sourdough, smoked trout, and a slick of good olive oil. Once the preserve of Lebanese restaurants and specialty delis in suburbs such as Lakemba and Brunswick, this creamy, tangy strained yogurt is now a staple for Australian home cooks who want something fresh, simple, and a little more interesting than cream cheese. The appeal is obvious: it pairs beautifully with a hot summer morning, travels well to a park picnic, and lifts even the most ordinary piece of toast into something worth photographing.

Behind the silky texture is a centuries-old technique from the Levant, where surplus milk was thickened using cloth and patience. Making it at home is not a clever shortcut or a passing food trend. It is a return to the kind of small, hands-on preparation that fits the way many Australians now like to cook, with fewer ingredients, sourced thoughtfully, and treated with care. The whole process asks for little more than a tub of yogurt, a pinch of salt, and a quiet corner of the kitchen.

The recipe that follows uses only two ingredients because that is genuinely all you need. There is no rennet, no thermometer, no special equipment beyond a piece of muslin or a clean tea towel. Yet the result is a thick, spoonable cheese that tastes richer and tangier than anything scooped from a tub. It can be dressed up with za'atar and a glug of olive oil for a mezze-style plate, or kept plain and dolloped onto a bowl of granola and roasted stone fruit.

This approach sits naturally with the way Ebury by Fat Macy's thinks about food. The Pimlico kitchen believes great meals begin with a small number of good ingredients, prepared well and shared generously. The same philosophy travels easily across hemispheres, fitting comfortably into a Surry Hills flat, a Fremantle weatherboard, or a Brisbane apartment balcony where labneh drizzled with honey has become the unofficial dish of long summer evenings.

What labneh actually is, and why it rewards the home cook

Labneh is simply yogurt that has been strained until much of its water has drained away, leaving behind a concentrated, spoon-thick dairy spread with a flavour somewhere between cream cheese and Greek-style yogurt. The proteins tighten, the lactose softens, and the tang sharpens, producing a result that holds its shape on a spoon and behaves beautifully on a plate. It is sometimes called yogurt cheese, hung yogurt, or strained yogurt, and across Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine it has long been rolled into balls, preserved in olive oil, and stored through the warmer months.

For Australian home cooks, the value of making it yourself is partly economic. A 500-gram tub of premium Greek-style yogurt in a Sydney supermarket might cost five or six Australian dollars, while the same weight of finished labneh from a deli counter can easily reach fourteen or fifteen. Stretching that same yogurt yields a richer product than what you began with, and lets you control the salt, the texture, and the freshness. A homemade batch also retains the live cultures from a well-chosen base yogurt, which appeals to anyone interested in gut-friendly food and aligns with the wellness conversations happening in cafés from Fitzroy to Newtown.

The other reason to make your own is taste. Commercial labnehs can be pleasant but uniform. A homemade version carries the character of the yogurt you began with, whether that is a grassy sheep's milk from a Victorian dairy, a thick cow's milk yogurt from a South Australian boutique producer, or a camel milk yogurt from one of the specialist farms near Broome. Each brings its own mineral edge, fat content, and tang, and that variation is precisely what keeps the homemade version interesting from batch to batch.

Choosing a yogurt that will work

The yogurt you start with sets the ceiling for the labneh you finish with, so this decision matters more than any other. A thin, sweetened, low-fat tub from the back of the fridge will give you a thin, slightly sweet, low-fat result. A full-fat, traditionally cultured yogurt with a short ingredient list will give you a dense, creamy cheese with a clean lactic finish. In Australian supermarkets, that means looking past the colourful children's packaging and seeking out brands that list only milk and live cultures, sometimes with cream added for richness.

In Sydney, shops in Lakemba and Punchbowl stock traditional Lebanese and Syrian yogurts already strained thicker than mainstream Greek varieties, which shortens the straining time considerably. Melbourne home cooks often head to the dairy halls of Queen Victoria Market, or to one of the Middle Eastern grocers lining Sydney Road in Brunswick, where you can find goat's milk and sheep's milk options worth experimenting with. Harris Farm and independent grocers around the country also carry smaller-batch yogurts from Australian dairies that perform exceptionally well. If you can find a yogurt labelled pot-set, biodynamic, or made from unhomogenised milk, the labneh will reflect that quality.

Salt is the second ingredient, and the choice is straightforward but worth a moment. Fine sea salt dissolves quickly and distributes evenly through the yogurt, while flaky salts such as Maldon add a small burst of crunch if stirred in just before serving. A general rule is roughly half a teaspoon of fine sea salt per 500 grams of yogurt, though you can adjust once the first batch is finished. Australian food safety standards, governed by Food Standards Australia New Zealand, allow home preparation of strained dairy products for personal use, but for any batch you intend to give away, refrigerate it promptly and consume it within a week.

The straining method, in practical detail

Begin by setting a large bowl on the bench and resting a sieve or colander over the rim so there is space below for liquid to collect. Line the sieve with a piece of muslin, a clean cotton tea towel, or several layers of cheesecloth, then spoon in the yogurt. Gather the edges of the cloth together and tie loosely, or simply fold them over the top to keep dust and fridge odours out during the long stretch ahead.

Place the whole setup in the refrigerator and leave it undisturbed for between twelve and twenty-four hours. The exact timing depends on how thick you want the finished labneh. Around twelve hours gives you a soft, spoonable spread similar to thick Greek yogurt, perfect for swirling onto plates. Twenty-four hours produces a denser, almost cream-cheese-like texture that holds decorative swoops and welcomes a drizzle of olive oil without collapsing. In a hot Australian summer, the kitchen will speed the process slightly; in a cool winter, allow a few extra hours. Some cooks prefer to strain on the bench, where room temperature encourages more whey to release, but the fridge is safer and produces a cleaner, milder flavour.

After the resting period, unwrap the cloth and scrape the labneh into a clean bowl. Stir through the salt, taste, and adjust. The whey left in the bowl beneath is not waste. It is a tangy, protein-rich liquid that can be used in baking, added to smoothies, poured over pancake batter on a slow Sunday morning, or whisked with olive oil, garlic, and lemon for a salad dressing. Expect roughly a third of your starting yogurt volume to drain off as whey, leaving two-thirds of beautifully concentrated labneh ready to eat or store.

Storing and serving the finished batch

Homemade labneh keeps happily in a sealed container in the refrigerator for up to seven days, and its flavour actually improves after the first day as the salt finishes drawing out remaining moisture. For longer keeping, the traditional Lebanese method is to roll tablespoon-sized portions into balls, drop them into a clean jar, and cover them completely with good olive oil. Stored this way, the labneh can last several weeks in the fridge and develops a faintly nutty, mellow character wonderful crumbled over roasted vegetables. Australians who entertain often will recognise this trick as a clever way to prepare a starter several days before a dinner party.

When it comes to serving, labneh behaves as a quiet canvas. The classic Levantine presentation is a shallow bowl with a well in the centre filled with olive oil, scattered with za'atar, sumac, or dried chilli, and eaten with warm flatbread. It also slides easily into Australian habits: spread thickly on toasted sourdough and topped with sliced fig or stone fruit in summer, layered under smoked salmon for a brunch plate in Sydney's eastern suburbs, or used as the creamy base for a grain bowl at a weekday lunch. The fact that it sits between sweet and savoury means a small bowl of labneh drizzled with honey and walnuts can finish a meal as comfortably as it can begin one.

A quick note on freezing: labneh freezes reasonably well for up to two months, though the texture becomes slightly grainy once thawed. Whisk it vigorously after defrosting, and it returns close to its original smoothness. For everyday use, fresh is better, but a stashed tub in the freezer is a useful backup for a sudden weekend invite.

Common stumbling blocks and how to avoid them

The most common mistake is choosing a yogurt that is too thin to begin with. Low-fat or high-water yogurts strain for ages without thickening properly, leaving a soft paste rather than a satisfying spread. Reach for a full-fat, traditionally set yogurt and the difference will be immediate. Another familiar problem is over-salting, which can happen easily because salt tastes different once the moisture has been removed. Always salt lightly at first, taste, and add more only if needed.

A third pitfall is using a cloth that is the wrong weight. A flour-sack tea towel works beautifully, while a thick terry cloth can slow the process to a crawl, and a single sheet of paper towel will tear before the job is done. If the labneh seems watery after straining, simply re-tie the cloth and return it to the sieve for a few more hours. Patience nearly always solves the problem.

Finally, resist the urge to press or squeeze the cloth to speed things up. The pressure can force some of the fats and solids through the weave, leaving a grainy cheese and a cloudy whey. Slow, gentle gravity is the entire principle of the recipe, and it is what gives homemade labneh its remarkably smooth, almost silken finish. Once you have made it a couple of times, the process becomes second nature, and you may find yourself reaching for the cloth every time a new tub of yogurt appears in the fridge.

A few favourite ways to use a fresh batch

• Swirl a generous spoonful onto a plate and finish with olive oil, za'atar, and a squeeze of lemon for an effortless starter.
• Spread thickly on toasted sourdough and top with sliced fig, honey, and toasted walnuts for a quick dessert or weekend brunch.
• Use as a creamy base for grain bowls, swapping out the usual tahini drizzle for something gentler and tangier.
• Pipe small quenelles onto a platter and serve alongside grilled lamb skewers at a warm-weather barbecue.
• Stir through chopped herbs, garlic, and a little lemon zest to make a quick dip for raw vegetables and flatbread.