Argentinean

Punchy, make-ahead chimichurri adds a bright, fresh finish to this easy summer dinner.

This colorful chimichurri recipe doubles as a marinade and works as an accompaniment to all cuts of beef—or anything else you want to gussy up.

For these baked empanadas, Gaby Melian says the addition of green olives and raisins in the filling is essential. 

This recipe was developed in honor of BA contributor Gaby Melian’s mother, who told her that if you left out the green pepper, it wasn’t an empanada.

This hot-sweet-smoky salsa transforms quick-seared short ribs into a dinner with complexity.

The tri-tip is a tender, triangular cut of beef tucked near the sirloin. There are only two per steer, so if your butcher is out, go with sirloin.

Make this versatile caramel at home with our slow-simmered method using milk and sugar—or take one of two sweetened condensed milk shortcuts.

This no-bake chocotorta is thrown together with everyday staples from the Argentine pantry.

This Argentinian staple is typically topped with mayonnaise, mustard, and chimichurri. We swapped out the chimichurri for a fresh salsa criolla, which takes just minutes to make.

This is one of those recipes that will make you look like an incredible cook for very little effort. Because of skirt steak’s relatively loose grain, it soaks up marinade incredibly well and is one of the few meats we ever marinate before grilling.

When sitting down to dine in Argentina, a small jar or vessel of oily, deep-green chimichurri is often the first thing to greet you at your table. A traditional condiment made of parsley and other herbs, sometimes speckled with dried red peppers, green onions, or garlic, chimichurri is the iconic sauce of the parrilla culture, delivering a welcome bolt of bright, sharp, herbaceous saltiness and acidity that takes fire-cooked foods to new heights.

In Argentina, garlicky chimichurri, a condiment as prevalent there as ketchup is in the United States, is spooned over all manner of grilled meats, especially steak. Make chimichurri at least 1 hour ahead to allow the flavors to meld.

Dulce de leche is a popular sweet in Argentina and throughout the rest of South America, where it is also called manjar and leche quemada (“burnt milk”). Store-bought versions are increasingly available in North American supermarkets and specialty foods stores; use it in place of the homemade variety, if desired.

Eduardo Pria, a 2002 Workshop participant and Mexico City native, is probably the most passionate chef we have ever had at the Workshop. He was overjoyed to be at the winery and expressed it with frequent hugs for all, usually coupled with an enthusiastic “I love you, man!” The Argentinian chimichurri sauce that Eduardo made for Don Watson’s lamb was as exhilarating as he is. Brian has used the sauce frequently over the years, adapting it along the way. Prepared quickly in a blender, it is a vivid emerald green and like pesto in texture, with a fresh, zingy taste. It complements almost any grilled red meat—from leg of lamb to hanger steaks, flatiron steaks, or pork chops. Add roasted fingerling potatoes and Blistered Cherry Tomatoes (page 157) for an ideal summer meal. We also like chimichurri with grilled summer vegetables, such as zucchini, eggplant, and peppers. You can make the sauce a few hours ahead, but plan to use it the same day. It loses zip with time. Note that the lamb needs to marinate for at least two hours.

Chimichurri is a simple Argentinean steak sauce made almost entirely from parsley, with huge amounts of chopped garlic and red pepper. In spirit, it’s not unlike pesto, but because everything is hand-chopped rather than ground or mashed, it has a bit more chew to it. And its powerful ingredients set it apart, making it the perfect complement for mild-tasting but meaty tenderloin.

Green and pungent, this is my favorite version of the famed Argentinean sauce. For a more traditional version, substitute fresh oregano for the cilantro, and red wine vinegar for the lime juice. Serve it with fat, juicy rib eyes, grilled chicken breasts, or tuna steaks.

Feel free to make this recipe using ground turkey or pork instead of beef, or even meat-substitute crumbles. You could also use a tenderloin cut of meat. Look for peeled and chopped butternut squash in your supermarket vegetable aisle.

These are not the empanadas I grew up with, and until my Argentinean friend Lorena came over one day and made them with me, I would never have considered combining beef with olives and egg whites—but I took one taste and was hooked. Each bite offers an exciting combination of flavors and textures. The secret is that a little cube of Manchego, a Spanish sheep’s milk cheese, is nestled into the center of each empanada. When the empanadas are baked or fried, the cheese melts and adds a subtle creaminess, the source of which is elusive to anyone who didn’t see you put in the cheese. Empanada dough disks can be found in the frozen section of many grocery stores or Latin markets. They are made with regular shortening dough or puff pastry; either works beautifully for this recipe. These empanadas are amazing when deep-fried, but they’re also really delicious when simply baked; directions for both are below. Read more about deep-frying on page 37.

Arepas define Venezuelan cooking. These thick cornmeal patties are griddled, then baked, and then stuffed while warm with anything from white cheese to this zesty chicken salad with avocado mayonnaise.

Thick, herby chimichurri is a great sauce to add to your cooking repertoire. Serve it with grilled meats or sausages, toss it with roasted potatoes, brush it on bread before grilling, or pair it with fried eggs.

Here, the sunny warmth of mint escapes the sweet-jelly cliché to find new expression in the thick Argentinean herb sauce called chimichurri. Its bright acidity cuts the lush richness of lamb shoulder chops.