The first time I heard of chimichurri was in a small restaurant around the corner of our Spanish language school in Buenos Aires. In 2013 Matthijs and I lived their for a month and spent our mornings studying Spanish just a short and overcrowded subway ride away from our appartment. I was thrown in at the deep end immediately. My intake test results showed that I was at an advanced level – I studied Spanish in school, but hadn’t spoken the language in about five years -, so I started in a group where speaking in English was not allowed. Not even when lost for words. When I found out I panicked a bit. But after a couple of days I was doing quite alright. One afternoon Matthijs and I went out for lunch just a block away from our school. We were about one week in, and I decided to try my luck and have a conversation in Spanish with the waiter. Not that there was much choice, because most Argentinians spoke hardly any English at the time. And why would they? The larger part of South America speaks the same language. The subject of this short conversation you ask? The ingredients in chimichurri. I had no idea what it was, but it came with almost everything on the menu. As you might expect, I couldn’t eat it. But they were so kind to replace it with something else. What that was, I don’t remember. However, I do remember the excitement of the waiter about my ability to have this conversation in Spanish.
As usual, if I can’t have something in a restaurant, I’ll recreate my own version. And as it turns out, it is incredibly easy to make chimichurri at home. All you have to do is to chop the parsley and chili as fine as possible and mix it with the oregano, vinegar, and oil. That’s it. Combine it with whatever you like.
click here to open the recipe