Authentic Chimichurri (Uruguay & Argentina)

The smell of chimichurri takes me back to age 8, sitting at our wobbly kitchen table while Dad chopped parsley so fine you'd think he was being paid by the cut. He'd stand there, hunched slightly, his Uruguayan accent getting thicker as he told stories about growing up in Montevideo. "En mi país," he'd start, and I knew we were in for a good one.

Dad learned to make chimichurri from my grandfather back in the 1930s, when they'd gather with neighbors for weekend asados, everyone bringing something to throw on the grill. Chimichurri wasn't some fancy sauce they bought – it was just what you made to go with the meat. Kind of like how Americans keep ketchup in the fridge, my dad's family always had a jar of chimichurri around.

Last summer, Dad's health took a nosedive, and on a rare good day, we made chimichurri together. His hands shook too much to chop, so he sat and directed me like some herb-obsessed Gordon Ramsay. "Más fino!" (Finer!) he'd bark when my parsley pieces were too big. After I finished, he dipped his pinky in, tasted, and just nodded. From him, that's basically a standing ovation.

The Real-Deal Ingredients

• Flat-Leaf Parsley - Not the curly stuff that comes as a sad garnish on diner plates. You want the flat kind that actually tastes like something. And yeah, those tender stems have flavor – chop 'em up too.
• Garlic - Fresh only. Those pre-chopped jars might be convenient, but they're about as flavorful as the plastic they come in. Dad would rather go without than use pre-chopped garlic – that's how serious this is.
• Dried Oregano - Weirdly, dried works better than fresh here. Something about how the dried stuff infuses into the oil. Just make sure it doesn't smell like nothing when you open the jar (that means it's too old and basically expensive dust).
• Red Wine Vinegar - Don't substitute with balsamic, white, or whatever else you have. Red wine vinegar has the right punch without overwhelming everything else.
• Fresh Red Chili - Dad would adjust the heat based on who was coming for dinner. More seeds for his poker buddies, fewer for when the neighbors brought their kids. No fresh chili? Dried flakes work too.
• Olive Oil - Don't need to break the bank, but maybe don't use the stuff you keep by the stove for everyday cooking either. Middle shelf is fine.
• Salt and Black Pepper - Dad always insisted on adding these bit by bit. "You can always add more," he'd lecture, wagging a wooden spoon, "but you can't take it out." I heard this approximately 10,000 times growing up.

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No-Fuss Method

Chop By Hand

Put down the food processor, step away from the blender. Dad would lose his mind if he saw anyone pulverize chimichurri into baby food. Proper chimichurri has texture – tiny bits of herbs and garlic swimming in oil, not green sludge. Yes, it takes longer. No, there's no shortcut. Just grab a knife and get to work.

Dry Stuff First

Toss your chopped parsley, garlic, and chili in a bowl. Add your dried oregano, crushing it between your fingers as it goes in (this wakes up the oils in the herbs). Season with a little salt and pepper – easy on the salt at first; you can add more later.

Wet Ingredients Next

Pour in the vinegar, give it a stir, then start adding your olive oil in a steady stream while mixing. This isn't some fancy emulsion technique – just make sure everything gets distributed somewhat evenly.

Hurry Up and Wait

The hardest part about chimichurri isn't making it – it's waiting before eating it. Fresh-made chimichurri is good, but chimichurri that's had a couple hours to let the flavors mingle is mind-blowing. Dad always made his the morning before an asado. At minimum, let it sit for 10 minutes, but if you can hold out for 2+ hours, you're in for a treat.

Taste Test

Before serving, dip a piece of bread in and taste. Need more salt? Add it. More kick? Throw in some more chili. Making it exactly by the recipe is less important than making it taste good to you.

Dad's chimichurri jar was like a science experiment. He'd keep adding fresh batches to the old one, insisting that the stuff at the bottom was "seasoning" the new batches. Pretty sure this breaks every food safety rule in existence, but he never got sick and swore it tasted better. I'm not recommending this approach, just sharing the weird quirks of family cooking.

How To Use This Stuff

Turn a mediocre steak into something special by slapping some chimichurri on during the last minute of grilling, then serving more alongside. The heat makes the herbs sizzle and releases this smell that'll have your neighbors "casually" stopping by to say hello. Dad used to say you could tell how good the asado would be by how many stray dogs showed up at the gate when the chimichurri hit the grill.

Got vegetarian friends? Roast a tray of sweet potatoes, bell peppers, zucchini, whatever, then drizzle chimichurri over everything while still hot. The vinegar cuts through the caramelized vegetable sweetness, and suddenly boring roasted vegetables are the star of the meal. I discovered this by accident when I had nothing but vegetables and chimichurri in the fridge, and now it's a regular thing.

Fancy up your next dinner party by toasting baguette slices, spreading with goat cheese, and topping with a little chimichurri. People will think you're all sophisticated when really it took you three minutes to assemble. My go-to move when I need to bring something to a potluck but have zero time.

Riff On Tradition

Red Version

If you want to switch things up, make chimichurri rojo by adding smoked paprika and some chopped roasted red peppers. It's deeper and smokier, really good with pork and chicken. Not my dad's style, but even he admitted it was tasty when I made it for him.

Herb Swap

Traditionally it's all parsley, but you can sub in some cilantro if that's your thing. Dad would give me side-eye for suggesting this, but he also used to say, "La cocina es para experimentar" (the kitchen is for experimenting).

Citrus Kick

Sometimes I swap half the vinegar for lemon or lime juice, especially when serving with fish. Dad would probably grumble about this not being "real" chimichurri, but then he'd eat it anyway and pretend not to like it while going for seconds.

Keeping It Fresh

Counter Time

Freshly made chimichurri can hang out on the counter, covered, for the day if you're using it for dinner. The olive oil acts as a preservative, and the acid from the vinegar helps too.

If you've got leftovers, stick them in a jar in the fridge for up to a week. The oil might solidify a bit when cold – this freaked me out the first time, but it's normal. Just pull it out 30 minutes before you need it and stir well.

Green to Brown

Your bright green sauce will probably darken after a day or two. It's just oxidation, like when a cut apple turns brown. Doesn't affect the flavor, so don't worry about it.

Freezer Hack

If you've made way too much, freeze it in an ice cube tray, then transfer the cubes to a freezer bag. Pop them out whenever you need a quick hit of flavor in soups, stews, or marinades. Not as good as fresh for serving straight up, but works great for cooking.

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Dad's Secret Tips

Size Matters

Try to keep your chopped parsley and garlic roughly the same size. Nobody wants a surprise chunk of raw garlic the size of Texas.

Quality Control

With so few ingredients, quality actually makes a difference. This doesn't mean expensive, just fresh and flavorful.

Heat Activation

Always add chimichurri to hot food, not cold. The heat wakes up all the flavors in the herbs and garlic. Dad would lose it if he saw someone putting cold chimichurri on cold meat.

Last month at our family reunion, I made a huge batch of Dad's chimichurri. My uncle Miguel, who moved to the States in the 70s and hasn't been back to Uruguay since, took one bite with his steak and got real quiet. I thought something was wrong until I saw him wipe his eyes with his napkin. "Esto," he said, pointing to the chimichurri, "esto es mi infancia." This is my childhood. That's the thing about food – sometimes it's not just lunch, it's a time machine. I'm just glad I can share a little piece of our family's past with you.

Frequently Asked Questions

→ How long does chimichurri sauce last?

Freshly made chimichurri can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week. The olive oil may solidify when cold, so bring it to room temperature before using. The flavor actually improves after a day as the ingredients meld together.

→ Can I use a food processor to make chimichurri?

While you can use a food processor for convenience, traditional chimichurri is made by hand-chopping the ingredients. This creates a more rustic texture and prevents the herbs from becoming too finely processed or bruised, which can make them bitter.

→ What's the difference between Argentinian and Uruguayan chimichurri?

The basic recipe is similar in both countries, but Uruguayan versions sometimes include a bit more red pepper or paprika. In Argentina, you might find versions with cilantro (coriander leaf) added, though the most traditional recipes from both countries focus on parsley.

→ Can I make chimichurri without chilies?

Yes, you can omit the red chilies if you prefer a milder sauce. The essential flavors come from the parsley, garlic, and olive oil. You can add a pinch of red pepper flakes instead for just a hint of heat, or leave it out completely.

→ What meats pair best with chimichurri?

Chimichurri is traditionally served with grilled beef (especially skirt steak or flank steak), but it's also excellent with chicken, pork, lamb, or grilled fish. In South America, it's a must-have condiment for asado (barbecue) and especially good with chorizo sausages.