Traditionally, Arab yogurts were made in springtime from sheep’s milk and preserved through salting or drying, resulting in either jameed (blocks of dried salted yogurt) or kishek (a powder made of yogurt mixed with bulgur, left out to dry then ground). This process made yogurt a very sour and salty ingredient with a distinct fermented flavor. While both those ingredients are still used today to make traditional dishes like mansaf, the ready availability of fresh yogurt year round, and its more mild flavor, mean people will more often than not opt for the easier-to-use fresh variety for day-to-day meals like this one.

When fresh yogurt is cooked and the whey evaporates, its acidity becomes more pronounced. This plays nicely with fried garlic, which is added off-heat for a sauce that’s extremely pungent and creamy. It’s a combination is reminiscent of those traditional fermented flavors, but definitely more palatable for the uninitiated.

The next step is making a horizontal cut to severe the breastbone and cartilage. To find the sweet spot for this cut, first locate the longest rib, usually the fourth bone in on the wider end of the rack. Feel along that rib until you detect a softer spot: That’s a cartilaginous section where the rib connects to the sternum (breastbone). All the other ribs connect to the breastbone in the same way. Make the cut by inserting the knife into the soft spot, then slicing perpendicular to the ribs, cutting through all of the soft spots where each rib meets the breastbone. Once the breastbone is removed, you should have a clean, rectangular rack of ribs with nothing but bone and meat, perfect for easy eating.

As for the scraps of meat I trimmed, I try not to throw them away. I tend to freeze the flap meat for sausage-making. Even more worth saving, though, is the breastbone portion: It’s the part that rib tips come from, which is Chicago barbecue’s claim to fame. I like to season and smoke this piece along with my St. Louis-cut ribs. The tips are done sooner than the full rack, so I take them off the grill sooner and have them as a cook’s treat while I wait another couple hours for the ribs to finish. Sure, they’re a bit of a pain to eat, but those fatty tips are also damn delicious.

From start to finish, the entire trimming process only takes a few minutes, and after a rub and 5 to 6 hours in the smoker, you’re left with nothing but serious eats.

So maybe I should explain what St. Louis ribs are and why they’re worth all this trouble: Pork ribs are divided into two main sections: the spareribs and loin-back ribs. The loin-back ribs, often called baby-back ribs, are the portion of the ribcage closest to the spine (where the loin runs); spareribs are the portion of the ribcage closest to the sternum. (Basically, if these cuts came from a human, spareribs would be the front half of your rib cage, and the loin-back ribs would be the back half of your rib cage. But we’re not cannibals, now, are we?) Spareribs tend to be less curved than the loin-back ribs, and they usually have part of the breastbone/sternum attached.

The problem with a whole rack of spareribs is that the breastbone section has lots of tough pieces of cartilage in it, which end up as hard-to-chew bits (there actually is a good use for them, which I’ll explain below.)

The St. Louis cut is trimmed of this cartilage-laden portion, as well as some excess flap-meat at the end of the rack. The end result is a rack of ribs that is more uniform in shape, smaller, and easier to eat—and that’s why I find it so much more desirable than standard spareribs.

So hopefully I’ve convinced you it’s worth trimming your spareribs, but if not, maybe once you see how easy it is, you’ll be converted. As I mentioned, it just takes two simple cuts.

The first of the two is removing the flap of meat at the end of the rack. To do this, look at the narrower end of the rack and locate the last, shortest bone. There’s usually a portion of meat attached to that bone that’s loose and will end up overcooking if not trimmed off. So to remove that, make a vertical cut parallel to, and about 1/2-inch away from, that last bone.

Technically the St. Louis racks are now ready, but there are a few more steps I always like to take before moving on to seasoning and cooking them.

First, I like to flip the ribs over and remove the piece of skirt meat that runs diagonally on the backside, if it’s there. Sometimes the butcher has already removed it, but most of the racks I buy still have a bit of it attached, so I make sure to cut it off. If not removed, it can dry out and char while the ribs cook.

Second, I remove the shiny, thin membrane that covers most of the backside of the ribs. There’s debate in the barbecue world about whether this is even worth doing: Some people say the membrane inhibits smoke penetration, but I don’t buy that explanation—I’ve had perfectly smoky ribs that have had the membrane still attached. For me, the advantage of removing it comes down to creating a better eating experience. Once cooked, the membrane can become papery, and while totally edible, I don’t find that texture pleasing.

Peeling it off is actually the hardest part of this entire trimming job—it can be slippery, making it hard to get a hold of, and even with lots of practice, there are still some racks that have membranes that just don’t want to come off. But I think it’s worth the trouble. To start it off, use a knife or fingernail to pry up a corner of the thin membrane from one edge of the ribs. Grab that with a paper towel—for grip—and slowly pull it upwards. Once a good portion of the membrane is free, you should be able to to pull the rest off in one quick motion.

After that, I’ll feel around the ribs to see if there are any excessive pockets of fat, especially hard fat, and trim those down. Fat is good in barbecue, but when there’s too much it won’t render enough during cooking and you’ll end up with overly fatty ribs, which are not a good thing.

For the Salad: In a large bowl, combine rice, tuna, olives, scallions, bell pepper, and green beans. Using two big forks, toss gently until well combined and rice grains are separated.

Drizzle with the dressing and toss gently, fluffing the rice, until evenly dressed. Garnish with cilantro leaves, if using. Serve at room temperature.

Make-Ahead and Storage
Leftovers can be refrigerated for up to 1 day, but should be brought back to room temperature before serving.

In a 3- to 4-quart stainless-steel saucepan or enameled Dutch oven, combine yogurt, 2 cups (475ml) water, and cornstarch and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, whisking constantly to prevent curdling (you do not want the yogurt to break into curds, so constant whisking until it boils is absolutely essential). Reduce heat to a bare simmer, whisking occasionally to prevent scorching. Season with salt.

Notes
To reheat any leftovers, add water and reheat slowly on the stove, adjusting seasoning if needed.
Labaniyeh bil ruz can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 5 days. Reheat slowly on the stovetop, thinning with water and adjusting seasoning as needed.

Although this dish is most often made with leftover rice or leftover cooked yogurt sauce, it’s so simple that I’ve made it countless times from scratch. The rice most often used in Arab countries is Egyptian, which is a medium grain rice closest to Calrose here in the US. However, it would be perfectly acceptable to make it with any other medium (such as jasmine) or short grain rice. The resulting flavor would be almost identical, but you might need to adjust water content slightly to get the right consistency. Basmati rice is not ideal for this dish, though, as its grain is quite thin compared to other varieties and it would therefore not absorb as much flavor.

Given its light color and creamy texture, you might expect something heavy or greasy to hit your palate. But because it’s made with yogurt, not cream, it’s light on the stomach. I like to to finish it with crushed dried mint and a sprinkle of nuts for some contrasting crunch. I most often use fried pine nuts, but slivered almonds would work just as well. In the summer, I like to serve it with a Gazan relish known as dagga, which is essentially a salsa of very finely chopped tomatoes and green chilies dressed with lemon, olive oil, salt, and crushed dill seeds.

Ingredients
For the Dressing:
2 tablespoons (30ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tablespoons (30ml) extra-virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons (10ml) harissa (or another chili paste)
1 tablespoon finely chopped preserved lemon rind (from about 2 mini lemons or half a large lemon)
1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Kosher or sea salt
For the Salad:
2 cups (about 9 ounces; 250g) cooked long grain rice (such as jasmine or basmati), cooled
One 7-ounce jar of tuna fillets in olive oil, drained and flaked (see headnote)
15 to 20 green olives (preferably Middle Eastern), pitted and chopped
2 scallions, ends trimmed, thinly sliced
1 small red bell pepper (about 6 ounces; 170g), stemmed, seeded, and finely diced
1 cup (3 1/2 ounces; 100g) green beans, stems trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces, lightly blanched (can use frozen beans soaked for a minute in boiling water)
A few cilantro leaves, for garnish (optional)

Directions
For the Dressing: In a measuring cup or jar, combine lemon juice, olive oil, harissa, preserved lemon, cilantro, and pepper. Stir or shake until well combined; season with salt. Set aside.

Preserved lemon and harissa brighten up plain rice.
Using meaty tuna, crunchy vegetables and soft rice creates a wonderful combination of textures.
The cuisine of North Africa is noted for its use of condiments like harissa and preserved lemon. Tuna, a fish rarely used in other parts of the Arab world, also tends to feature heavily in North African salads, sandwiches, and pastries. The examples are endless: Harcha is a semolina pancake that sometimes includes tuna; chermoula is a widely used condiment that in certain regions relies on preserved lemon; tagines from chicken to fish often include preserved lemon and harissa; mhamasah, a giant couscous similar to fregola sarda, is used as a base for a tuna salad; in Tunisia, these ingredients come together in a delicious sandwich with avocado and eggs.

The creativity these dishes can inspire is vast and I draw on many of those flavors for this rice salad, designed to be made with fresh or leftover rice. Preserved lemon is the real star of this show, providing a depth of citrus that is pungent yet bright, and marries the robust flavor of tuna with the softer notes of plain rice. (Please note that regular lemon would not be a good substitute in this particular dish).

Reheating rice in a garlic-infused yogurt is a quick way to make a comforting and satisfying meal. Infusing the yogurt with fried garlic enhances the flavor.
Adding cooked rice to the yogurt instead of cooking it in the yogurt from the beginning allows you to control the consistency.
Labaniyeh bil ruz is a tangy, garlicky porridge of yogurt and rice that falls somewhere between risotto and congee. It’s lighter on the stomach and easier to prepare than risotto, and you don’t have to worry about maintaining that distinctive al dente bite. Compared to congee, the rice grains in labaniyeh bil ruz retain some of their texture, and the dish has a sharper, more pronounced flavor profile.

Ingredients
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1 pound (450g) full-fat plain or Greek yogurt
1 teaspoon cornstarch
Kosher or sea salt
1 tablespoon (15ml) extra-virgin olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon (5ml) fresh lemon juice (optional)
2 cups (about 11 ounces; 310g) cooked plain medium- or short-grain white rice,
1/4 cup (1 ounce; 25g) toasted or fried pine nuts or slivered almonds, for garnish (optional)
Crushed dried mint, for garnish (optional)

Perfect as full meal on its own or as part of a more elaborate spread, this salad is best enjoyed at room temperature. If you’re using leftover rice from the fridge, allow it sit out for a bit before preparing the salad. Oftentimes, when rice sits in the fridge, it sticks together in a single mass. Some ways around it include adding more oil to the water when cooking and allowing the rice to cool completely on a large baking sheet before transferring to a container and into the fridge. Finally, even if it is clumping together, using two forks that you gently pull in opposite directions, you can easily fluff the rice apart.

The jarred style of tuna tends to be better quality than the canned, with bigger pieces and better texture. However, if you can’t find jarred tuna, canned tuna will still work. The flavors in the salad are quite strong, so if the jar/can of tuna you use is one or two ounces off, it will still work out fine.

As for the vegetables, they were chosen for their crunch as a nice contrast to the fluffy rice and tender tuna, but you can substitute with whatever you have on hand. After all, this is a dish meant to repurpose leftovers, not send you scavenging for something you don’t have.

The funny thing about mayo is: like many other now tasty to me foodstuffs, I used to dislike it. It probably didn’t help that the first memory I have of it is on warm bologna sandwiches where it was gloopy and just plain weird. I think the first time I started liking mayo was when it was cold and used as more of a dipping sauce as opposed to a spread. For the record, extra crispy fries dipped into garlic mayo is a resounding YES in my books.
If you’re not a mayo fan, you have to try Kewpie mayo: the ubiquitous clear, red-topped squeeze bottle of mayo found in practically every Japanese household. It’s tangy from rice vinegar, slightly sweet, and extra creamy. It is absolutely delicious and found on a bunch of classic Japanese dishes like takoyaki and okonomiyaki. It works especially well as a stand in for anywhere your might use mayo, like this tuna salad.This salad is a little umami bomb and absolutely the perfect moreish no-carb snack. To a can of drained tuna, I stirred in a little bit of kewpie mayo, white miso instead of salt, celery for crunch, and green onions for bite. Instead of bread or crackers, I scooped it onto crispy seaweed.

1 tablespoon white miso paste, or to taste*
2 tablespoons kewpie mayonnaise
1 can of tuna, drained
2 tablespoons diced celery
2 tablespoons sliced green onions
pepper, to taste
crackers, toasted bread, or seaweed, if desired
Mix together the miso and kewpie until smooth. Add the drained tuna, celery and green onions. Mix throughly and season to taste. Enjoy on it’s own or on top of crackers, toast, or seaweed.

Notes: Adjust the miso content to taste, miso pastes vary greatly in terms of saltiness. Also, feel free to add more kewpie mayo if needed.It’s tangy from rice vinegar, slightly sweet, and extra creamy. It is absolutely delicious and found on a bunch of classic Japanese dishes like takoyaki and okonomiyaki. It works especially well as a stand in for anywhere your might use mayo, like this tuna salad.This salad is a little umami bomb and absolutely the perfect moreish no-carb snack. To a can of drained tuna, I stirred in a little bit of kewpie mayo, white miso instead of salt, celery for crunch, and green onions for bite. Instead of bread or crackers, I scooped it onto crispy seaweed.

1 tablespoon white miso paste, or to taste*
2 tablespoons kewpie mayonnaise
1 can of tuna, drained
2 tablespoons diced celery
2 tablespoons sliced green onions
pepper, to taste
crackers, toasted bread, or seaweed, if desired
Mix together the miso and kewpie until smooth. Add the drained tuna, celery and green onions. Mix throughly and season to taste. Enjoy on it’s own or on top of crackers, toast, or seaweed.

Notes: Adjust the miso content to taste, miso pastes vary greatly in terms of saltiness. Also, feel free to add more kewpie mayo if needed.It’s tangy from rice vinegar, slightly sweet, and extra creamy. It is absolutely delicious and found on a bunch of classic Japanese dishes like takoyaki and okonomiyaki. It works especially well as a stand in for anywhere your might use mayo, like this tuna salad.This salad is a little umami bomb and absolutely the perfect moreish no-carb snack. To a can of drained tuna, I stirred in a little bit of kewpie mayo, white miso instead of salt, celery for crunch, and green onions for bite. Instead of bread or crackers, I scooped it onto crispy seaweed.

The funny thing about mayo is: like many other now tasty to me foodstuffs, I used to dislike it. It probably didn’t help that the first memory I have of it is on warm bologna sandwiches where it was gloopy and just plain weird. I think the first time I started liking mayo was when it was cold and used as more of a dipping sauce as opposed to a spread. For the record, extra crispy fries dipped into garlic mayo is a resounding YES in my books.
If you’re not a mayo fan, you have to try Kewpie mayo: the ubiquitous clear, red-topped squeeze bottle of mayo found in practically every Japanese household. It’s tangy from rice vinegar, slightly sweet, and extra creamy. It is absolutely delicious and found on a bunch of classic Japanese dishes like takoyaki and okonomiyaki. It works especially well as a stand in for anywhere your might use mayo, like this tuna salad.This salad is a little umami bomb and absolutely the perfect moreish no-carb snack. To a can of drained tuna, I stirred in a little bit of kewpie mayo, white miso instead of salt, celery for crunch, and green onions for bite. Instead of bread or crackers, I scooped it onto crispy seaweed.