Bon Appétit, Your Majesty season 1 review — From gochujang butter to time-bending love, a banquet of power and pain

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty began with an irresistible hook: a Michelin-starred chef hurled back to Joseon, armed only with her craft and her will to survive. What could’ve been a simple fish out of water romance turned into one of the year’s most daring K-dramas, a series that wove food, power and heartbreak into a feast of emotion.

From the very first course, Bon Appétit, Your Majesty treated food as both comfort and language. Course No. 1 Gochujang Butter Bibimbap gave Ji-young a weapon sharper than any sword. Her ability to cook became a way to negotiate safety, form unexpected alliances and challenge the tyrant king who held her fate.

The time slip premise of Bon Appétit, Your Majesty could’ve been gimmicky, but the series used it to explore memory and identity: every dish carried traces of home, and every bite forced characters to face what they’d lost.

Palace intrigue served with fire

By Course No. 2 and Course No. 3 Haute Cuisine, Bon Appétit, Your Majesty had already leaned deeper into palace schemes. The tone shifted from whimsical displacement to razor edged survival. Ji-young learned that every spice had political weight; a single plate could seal alliances or spark treason. These middle episodes moved at a slower simmer, giving space for betrayals to ripen and for the king’s mercurial nature to unfold.

Course No. 4 Spinach Doenjang Soup turned tears and tenderness into strategy. A drunken kiss punctured the armor between captor and captive, making the power dynamics in Bon Appétit, Your Majesty both more dangerous and more human. By Course No. 5 Snowflake Schnitzel, romance and court politics braided together, sweet and spicy but never safe.

Love baked under pressure

Then comes the midseason of Bon Appétit, Your Majesty, with Course No. 6 Black Sesame Macaron, which brought a royal kitchen showdown, with defiance baked into every dessert. Ji-young stopped playing by anyone’s rules but her own, even as danger thickened. In Course No. 7 Dongnae Pajeon, the rainy day pressure cooker nearly burst. The series mastered a rhythm of quiet intimacy punctured by sudden threats, keeping the audience both charmed and afraid.

By Course No. 8 Rice Wine Beef Bourguignon, love had reshaped the king himself. What started as arrogance and cruelty softened into something raw and wounded, though still dangerous. The stakes rose with Course No. 9 Pressure Cooked Ogyetang, where betrayal boiled over and the palace latch could no longer hold back chaos.

Course No. 10 Joseon Restaurant unmasked treacheries and forced Ji-young to choose between safety and a love tangled with power. Course No. 11 Soy Meat Gujeolpan & Eggplant Pie ignited the coup, pulling every simmering thread into open war.

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty and a finale that tastes of grief and hope

Then came Course Nº 12 Hwanseban, a season finale for Bon Appétit, Your Majesty that was as bold as any royal banquet. Palaces fell like overcooked sugar. Friendships burned to bitter ash. Yet amid the wreckage something tender survived.

The great coup erupted with shocking speed. Secrets marinated all season finally spilled out, hot and dangerous. The king’s warning,

“Power you cannot control is nothing but poison,”

became the dish’s central spice.

The king emerged as a paradox: imperious, wounded, almost villainous yet heartbreakingly human. His mysterious leap to the future was never explained, but the show understood that love doesn’t need logistics to matter.

Ji-young woke in a modern hospital, stripped of the palace but not of memory, and rebuilt her life around food. When the king finally walked into the restaurant where she worked, it wasn’t a fairy tale reunion. It was a dish served after years of marination, smoky with grief, impossibly alive.

The closing moments refused easy sweetness. Some familiar faces hinted at reincarnation or time’s strange loops, but nothing was confirmed. Survival came at a cost no feast could erase. Laughter remained, but salted by loss. Hope existed, but tempered and hard earned.

A drama that dares to be more than romance

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty set out to mix genres, time slip fantasy, palace thriller, romance, and ended up creating a K-drama unlike any other this year. It was witty when it needed to be, heartbreaking when least expected and unafraid to kill its darlings to earn emotional weight. Food threaded everything together: each course a metaphor for survival, resistance and love strong enough to cross centuries.

It’s rare for a series to feel this full-bodied. From the playful opening episodes of Bon Appétit, Your Majesty to the tragic and breathtaking finale, to that kind of happy ending for the lovers, the show balanced flavor and fire with masterful control. It made us laugh, ache and crave answers it refused to spoon feed.

Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5 royal banquets where love and power battle for the last bite.