Chimichurri, My Way: A Recipe from FORKS (and a Few Thoughts About Algorithms)

This post shares my chimichurri recipe from FORKS—and a few honest thoughts about making what I love, even when the algorithm tells me I shouldn’t.

 I Don’t Give a Damn About the Algorithm

There. I said it.

The YouTube experts will tell you I’m doing it all wrong. One day I’m posting motorcycle adventures through Tunisia, the next I’m capturing Al Stewart in concert in Amsterdam, and today I’m making chimichurri sauce. I spend days—sometimes weeks—crafting videos for my YouTube Channel that get barely 100 views, sometimes fewer than 50. And that stings. Not because I need the validation, but because I wish people would see what I’m sharing. But YouTube has decided that a channel about motorcycle travel, music, wine, food, and human connection is too unfocused. Too real. Too human.

This post is about chimichurri sauce. But it’s also about refusing to be smaller than the life I actually live.

Nearly Ten Years of FORKS

As we approach the tenth anniversary of publishing my book *FORKS: A Quest for Culture, Cuisine, and Connection*, I’m humbled by what this book has become. A 4.8-star rating on Amazon. Still selling in both hardcover and softcover. Still resonating with people who understand that travel isn’t just about the miles—it’s about the meals, the conversations, the connections that happen when you slow down enough to actually *see* the world.

The book was born from my three-year solo motorcycle journey through 35 countries across five continents. It’s packed with stories, photographs, and 40 recipes that represent not just food, but moments. Memories. The taste of a place and the warmth of the people who shared it with me.

And chimichurri? Chimichurri is Argentina.

From Red Rock Deserts to Windswept Plains

Whether I was riding through the otherworldly red rock deserts of Jujuy and Salta, or bracing against the relentless winds of Patagonia’s barren plains, one thing remained constant: chimichurri sauce. It’s the soul of Argentine cuisine. Forget the legendary grass-fed beef for a moment—though, yes, it’s spectacular. What makes that beef sing is the bright, herbaceous, garlicky punch of fresh chimichurri.

I was invited to countless *asados*—those beautiful social gatherings where friends and family gather around an open fire pit (many homes have them built right in) to grill fresh meats and share stories. The asado isn’t just a meal; it’s a ritual of connection. And at the heart of it all? That emerald-green sauce that could make cardboard taste good.

The Garden Calls

When I returned from my recent travels in Europe, I noticed something extraordinary happening in my patio container garden: the parsley had gone absolutely wild. Lush, green, abundant—practically begging to be harvested. The rains had been generous, the soil fertile, and suddenly I had more fresh herbs than I knew what to do with.

So I grabbed my trimmers and decided: today’s the day. Fresh parsley. Fresh oregano from the garden. This is the way chimichurri *must* be made—with ingredients so fresh they’re still thinking about being plants.

And while I spend most of my time these days creating video stories from my travels, I realized my blog has been starving. So here we are. A recipe. A story. An act of making something anyway.

The kitchen smells like green and garlic, my hands are slick with olive oil, and the blender is louder than I remember.

Chimichurri: The Recipe

This recipe comes straight from *FORKS*, and I’ve made it dozens of times since that journey through Argentina. It’s versatile beyond belief—use it on steak, chicken, fish, eggs (trust me), salads, or, if you’re like me, just about anything that needs a flavor explosion.

Ingredients

– 1½ cups fresh Italian flat-leaf parsley, chopped

– 1 shallot, coarsely chopped

– 4 garlic cloves, chopped (about 1½ tablespoons)

– ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

– 2 tablespoons fresh oregano

– 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar

– ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil (use the best you have—don’t skimp)

– 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

– ½ teaspoon salt

– ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

1. Start with the freshest possible ingredients.** Seriously. Wilted parsley won’t cut it. Go to your garden or farmers’ market. This matters.

2. Combine everything** in a food processor: parsley, shallot, garlic, red pepper flakes, oregano, vinegar, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper.

3. Pulse until combined.** You’re not making a puree—you want texture. Think chunky, not smooth.

4. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.** This lets the flavors marry and mellow.

5. Taste and adjust.** Need more salt? More acid from the lemon or vinegar? Trust your palate. You can even hand-chop everything if you don’t have a food processor—it’s actually more traditional that way.

6. Use liberally.** I could almost eat this straight (and I have). It enhances everything from breakfast eggs to grilled meats. Make a big batch. You’ll find excuses to use it.

Watch Me Make It

If you’ve been here a while, you know what’s coming next.

I filmed the whole process—from harvesting the parsley in my garden to that final, glorious taste test. You can watch the video on my WorldRider YouTube channel. While you’re there, subscribe, like, and share. I know the algorithm doesn’t care that I’m not “easy to explain in a content calendar,” but maybe you do.

Because here’s what I believe: a life measured in meals and miles isn’t about feeding an algorithm what it thinks it wants. It’s about sharing what you love—travel, friends, family, food, wine, music, and an old man in Patagonia handing you a warm cup of espresso, urging you to take a break from the wind and the cold. It’s about finding friends in the strangers you meet all over the world.

Some days, that looks like a motorcycle adventure through Eastern Europe. Other days it’s a concert. And today? Today it’s chimichurri sauce, made from parsley I grew myself, inspired by memories of roadside asados where the chimichurri mattered more than the beef.

One More Thing

If you don’t have a copy of *FORKS* yet, what are you waiting for? It’s available on [Amazon] (https://amzn.to/43gOWUM) in both hardcover and softcover. Inside you’ll find 40 recipes like this one, along with stories and photographs from three astounding years that changed how I see strangers, food, and the road ahead.

And if you *do* have a copy? I’d love to hear from you. What recipes have you tried? What stories resonated? Drop a comment below or reach out on social media. Because at the end of the day, connection is what it’s all about.

Algorithm be damned. Pull up a chair.

Now go make some chimichurri. Your taste buds will thank you.