I’m a simple man when it comes to my steaks.

I want it medium rare. Give me any cut you have on hand, but for the love of God, medium rare. Please.

If I do have a choice of cut, I want a ribeye. I want the marbling to look like a map of Southeast Asia. I want that fat to melt in my mouth like ice cream, so cook it hot.

I want salt and pepper on it.

That’s it, y’all! Depending on what I have on hand, I might prep it in a pan with butter, a little rosemary and some crushed garlic cloves, or I might slap that sucker right on the grill. Really, though, as long as I have my basic red meat requirements (medium rare, ribeye, salt and pepper), I’ll take it prepared any way.

Then, while curiously browsing a recipe site, I came across Chimchurri sauce. Looked interesting, but not for me. But while browsing the produce section of my grocery store, the idea popped in my head to just try the stuff. Worst case scenario, I reaffirm my staunch steak beliefs.

So I came home, whipped it up, and reluctantly took a bite.

Suddenly, my tune changed. I’m still playing the same song, but I have a few more tricks to throw in there thanks to this tasty South American condiment.

The ingredients are simple: a whole lotta green herbs, a chile pepper (or red pepper flakes if you have no chiles on hand), some red wine vinegar, garlic, and olive oil.

When all of these ingredients meld together, you get an intensely fresh, robust, and spicy kick to the steak you love. It’s not overpowering, like I find a balsamic reduction to so often be. Rather, Chimichurri sauce gives your tastebuds a nice warm up to the flavorful meat it’s complimenting. The freshness and vibrance of all those herbs and garlic and red wine vinegar boost the flavors of the steak and bring out that savory deliciousness I crave.

Traditionally, Chimichurri sauce is served on flank steak, or maybe a New York strip. I like mine on ribeyes, of course. Guess that makes me a pioneer.

After seasoning my cut with some coarse salt and pepper and heating my grill to high, I oil my grates and throw the meat on. Two minutes, rotate, two more minutes, flip, two minutes, rotate, two more minutes, off.

I take the steak straight inside and let it rest for 10 minutes under some tinfoil.

(Pro tip: rest your steak on a small saucer plate. The juices that naturally flow out of your steak during the resting period will drip down, leaving those crunchy bits you worked so hard to make alone instead of sogging them up. Alton Brown came up with this and I find it brilliant.)

Slice that guy up against the grain and add your Chimichurri sauce on top. Easy!

If you’re a steak purist like I was, it can be hard giving something like this a shot. “But my steak is just so good on its own! Why smother it in that green sludge?”

I know, I know. But if you’re feeling adventurous (and I hope you always feel adventurous), you’ll find Chimichurri sauce is the only suitable condiment to ever, ever put on a decent cut of red meat. When you’re at the late night diner, pour all the A1 you want on that overcooked shoe leather they bring you.

When you’re working with the high-quality stuff, go with the Chimichurri. Trust me.

Cobblestone Chimichurri Sauce

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup coarsely chopped parsley
• A handful of chopped cilantro
• 4 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 4 large garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tablespoons oregano leaves
• 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper
• Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
• 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Instructions

Combine the parsley, cilantro, vinegar, garlic, oregano, and crushed red pepper in a food processor or blender and get it nice and smooth. Season it with salt and pepper. Move the sauce to a bowl and pour the olive oil over the mixture. Let it stand for about a half hour, then go to town.

Enjoy.