Bon Appétit, Your Majesty: 5 hilarious moments in the K-drama caused by Ji-young’s being from the future

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty is a historical drama about palace politics and refined recipes, and it also thrives as a comedy of anachronisms. Ji-young comes from the present day, and each time she brings a piece of modern life into the royal court the result is laughter.

A slang word in the wrong century, a dish plated with 21st-century flair, a gesture that looks out of place among nobles in silk, all of it transforms the cultural clash into comedy gold.

By episode 6 of Bon Appétit, Your Majesty, the series had already offered moments where future and past collided in ways that feel absurd and delightful, giving us viewers reasons to enjoy the story beyond its romantic and political intrigues.

Tying up the king like a horse

The forest becomes an unlikely stage in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty for a meeting that tastes like comedy more than destiny. Ji-young stumbles upon King Yi Heon, his silk robes heavy with authority, while she still carries the scent of a world filled with neon lights and convenience stores.

He sees her glowing device and trembling gestures and decides she must be an apparition from beyond. She looks at his elaborate costume and assumes he’s a cosplayer who lost his way. This misunderstanding simmers until Ji-young, drawing on her modern reflexes, delivers a jolt with her taser and flips the balance of power.

What follows in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty is absurd and delicious. The feared monarch of Joseon, known in the future as a tyrant with a gourmet palate, is trussed up with rope, treated like livestock, and dragged to safety by a woman whose sneakers sink into the earth of another century.

The image has the sharp bite of satire and the sweetness of slapstick, a mix that leaves courtiers speechless when they later confront what happened. To see a king stripped of dignity and turned into cargo is to witness history seasoned with irreverence, and it leaves the audience laughing with the same surprise as those stunned officials.

French-style portions in Joseon

When Ji-young steps into the palace kitchen in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty, she carries with her knowledge from another era and an instinct for plating that feels like a magic trick. With the ingredients of Joseon at her disposal, she dares to sear beef into elegant cuts and arrange them on plates as if the royal court were a Michelin-star restaurant. Each portion is small, refined, and gleaming, a dish designed to be admired before it is devoured.

The courtiers in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty stare in horror at what they see as an insult. To them, food is abundance, and abundance means power. A dish that arrives in delicate slices feels like mockery, a sign that this outsider has no respect for their hunger or their traditions. Murmurs rise, eyes narrow, and accusations threaten to turn the kitchen into a courtroom. It feels as though Ji-young has committed treason with her knife and her sense of presentation.

Yet the taste cannot be denied. King Yi Heon takes a bite, and the room shifts. The flavors are rich, layered, and unexpectedly modern, carrying with them the boldness of butter and the tenderness of perfectly cooked beef. What was almost her downfall becomes her triumph, a moment where the future seduces the past through flavor alone.

The comedy in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty blooms in the gap between their outrage and his delight. A monarch savors a taste that centuries ahead would be called fine dining, while his courtiers struggle to comprehend how something so small could carry so much power.

Macarons and the alchemy of butter

Ji-young’s imagination does not stop at savory plates. She brings sweetness from another timeline (and countries), turning the palace kitchen into a laboratory of colors and textures that no one in Joseon could have dreamed of.

With a bowl, a whisk, and that stubborn determination of someone who knows desserts can heal despair, she churns cream into golden butter and pipes airy batter into pastel circles. The result is a plate of macarons, delicate and impossible, a bite-sized rainbow that looks more like jewels than food.

The courtiers in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty gape at the strange creations, an exquisite delicacy unfamiliar to eyes used to rice cakes and honey. Whispers travel through the room like smoke. The Chinese envoys, invited to witness this culinary display, cannot hide their astonishment, their chopsticks hovering above the plate as if unsure whether to touch something so foreign. The comedy lies in their hesitation. Dignitaries who have crossed borders stand frozen before a dessert that children in the future will buy in bakeries on a whim.

When the first bite finally breaks the silence, laughter spills across the scene in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty. The sweetness is undeniable, and so is the absurdity of its presence in Joseon. Ji-young watches with pride as the macarons dissolve centuries of taste in an instant, their crisp shells and soft centers a message from the future that sugar can be art.

In that moment in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty the kitchen is no longer bound by time, and the audience delights in the humor of a royal court discovering that dessert can be as much a revelation as it is a rebellion.

An alcohol-fueled celebration with Girls’ Generation

What begins in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty as a dimly lit gathering in the palace kitchens bursts into a carnival of music. Ji-young pours a traditional Korean liquor with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and the warmth of the drink loosens the air until the room feels less like Joseon and more like a karaoke bar in Seoul.

Voices rise, laughter bursts, and the rhythm of a melody from the future takes over. Suddenly the sound of “Gee” by Girls’ Generation fills the hall, an anthem that belongs to 2009 yet finds a second life centuries earlier.

The cooks in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty clap in rhythm as Ji-young throws herself into the song with unrestrained joy. The kitchen spins into chaos, voices shouting the chorus of “Gee” until she stumbles and collapses at the center of the celebration.

The choice of song adds a playful meta twist, since Ji-young is portrayed by Yoona, a member of Girls’ Generation who turned this song into a phenomenon long before it echoed through Joseon.

The comedy in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty sparkles because the scene plays both as parody and as liberation. The rigid etiquette of royal life melts under the glow of drunken friendship, and for a brief moment the royal kitchen feels alive with something lighter than duty.

Viewers laugh at the absurdity, yet they also savor the sweetness of seeing these characters taste the future through music. It's not just a party. It's a reminder that joy, like good food, crosses centuries without asking for permission.

Slang and a passport from another century

Ji-young cannot always keep modern slang from slipping out. In the middle of the royal kitchen she tosses off a quick “araesso (알았어)” or mutters an English “okay,” and the words hang in the air like strange spells. For her, they are automatic fillers, the kind of casual replies she would use with friends in Seoul.

For the courtiers in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty, they sound like gibberish wrapped in disrespect. Servants glance at each other in confusion, the king arches a brow, and the laughter for the audience comes from watching this tiny slip of language turn the entire room upside down.

The comedy in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty sharpens even more when a passport slips from her belongings. The official who picks it up freezes at the sight of the cover stamped “Republic of Korea” and the realistic photo of Ji-young inside. His expression twists from curiosity to alarm, and the kitchen fills with a tension that feels heavier than any trial. For them, the passport is a forbidden artifact, proof of a world that should not exist, yet here it is in leather and paper.

These flashes of slang and paperwork shimmer with the same flavor as Ji-young’s culinary experiments. Each slip of language, each anachronistic object becomes a punchline, a reminder that her future cannot be hidden in Joseon. Together they turn the palace into a stage where comedy, fear, and wonder share the same spotlight.

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty: A feast where eras collide

What makes Bon Appétit, Your Majesty fizz is the way it treats time itself as an ingredient. Ji-young stirs flavors of the 21st century into a Joseon kitchen, and the result is comedy that feels fresh and unpredictable.

A king tied like livestock, fine dining served as treason, macarons glowing like jewels, K-pop echoing through the royal kitchen, and slang that lands like riddles, all of these moments prove that the past becomes far more playful once the future takes a seat at the table.

By the mid-season episode, Bon Appétit, Your Majesty had already shown that humor can be plated as beautifully as any dish, and that laughter travels as easily as flavor across centuries.

Watching Ji-young bring her world into another era in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty feels like enjoying a banquet where every course surprises the palate. It's funny, it's tender, and it's proof that even history can be rewritten when food and imagination share the same kitchen.

What was your favorite hilarious moment from Bon Appétit, Your Majesty so far? Let us know in the comments below!