Food Blogger, The Federalist.
‘ I’m not entirely sure exactly what Meghan Markle is going for with her new show, “With Love, Meghan,” but I’m pretty sure few people understand it for the true comedic genius Netflix has graced us with. Styled as part cooking show, part lifestyle show, it’s jampacked with unoriginal ideas and tips you’ve definitely seen on Pinterest before.
Don’t get me wrong — as a living, moving Pinterest board, “With Love, Meghan” delivers a fabulous aesthetic. But much like a Pinterest board, actually replicating any bit of said coastal California aesthetic is likely impossible, without first tracking down actual recipes, more detailed instructions, and someone to bankroll it all while keeping those pesky young children and husband away.
Meghan’s main theme, “with love,” forcefully oozes in every scene. Meghan will* *show you how much she loves you, like it or not, by creating hamfisted “moments” with random factoids she assuredly had her guests fill out on a questionnaire beforehand.
As a way to launch “the real Meghan” and celebrate a sort of coming out to her real, post-royal life, the series is shot at a rented house, not her sprawling Montecito estate. None of the recipes she does make are her own (they are sourced from Pinterest or blogs whose names we will never know.) She changes outfits no less than 20 times in eight “days” — sometimes three outfits in one morning. We’re treated to lots of stories from Meghan’s past, and life at home, though most are completely nonsensical, and many completely contradictory.
In episode one, we’re treated to a glimpse of Meghan’s bees and told that women should do scary, important things, like keeping bees. In an incredibly relatable, affordable, and woman-affirming twist, she’s hired a professional (male, natch) beekeeper to do all the actual “scary” work for her, as she stands at a safe distance, dancing in a beekeeper suit and coos “good vibes for good hives” to the hive that is totally hers, and something she absolutely has seen before in her yard. I truly believe the only time she’s been near any part of this process previously is to scoop honeycomb from the trays, as it is the only thing we see her take part in.
Nothing About This Woman Screams Home Cook
The episode moves on from bees to what can only be described as the most unhinged one-pot pasta scene I have ever witnessed (and as a food blogger, I’ve seen it all), in which she boils a kettle of water to pour over uncooked spaghetti, diced tomatoes, and herbs in a pan, to then boil and thicken. No sautéing for flavor here, just a pile of pasta in its own starchy “cream” with some quick-boiled herbs. We’re told some of the ingredients, a smattering of details for others, and some things are left completely to the viewer’s interpretation. Most of her recipes are like this. Only the chefs who are invited on each episode seem to have any interest in informing viewers what they are adding into a recipe, and why.
One chef has her brine chicken in milk, a concept she is completely flummoxed by (as an aside, the viral Jamie Oliver chicken in milk recipe from over a decade ago will make anyone a believer), as is the thought of parboiling chicken before frying.
At one point, as Meghan is prepping breakfast before celebrity Mindy Kaling arrives to host a pretend kids’ tea party that is void of any children, she cooks some bacon and talks of how bacon makes all the men in her house come running. She starts shimmying and breaks into a sing-songy voice declaring “it’s not my perfume; my bacon brings all the boys to the yard.”
Meghan’s jokes that land terribly are only slightly more uncomfortable than watching her using a knife. She somehow always chooses a paring knife, and has seemingly never heard of a chef’s knife. The fact her fingers remain unscathed after eight episodes is somewhat of a miracle. Meghan opts for fussy, overcomplicated methods while telling people to keep it simple and cares more about clapping over her handiwork at sprinkling “accessories” (dried flower petal sprinkles which run around $20 for 4 ounces) over her food.
Forced Artificial ‘Moments’
Throughout the series, Meghan is obsessed with the idea of creating “moments.” She has dreamt out exactly how she wants her guests to live and move in her world. She goes to prep snacks (popcorn she makes from dried corn she places in a paper bag and microwaves, which is a genuinely fun trick), or making homemade coffee creamer that she almost scalds and a cameraman is forced to bring her attention to so it doesn’t boil over. It’s a lovely sentiment to find little things friends love and spoil them, but it feels so desperate and over the top.
There is a way to entertain effortlessly while adding lots of personal touches that show you care about your guest, but Meghan seems so fixated on this idea of magic “moments” that I can’t believe she, nor her guests, will ever feel relaxed enough for any of this forced whimsy to play out as she has crafted in her mind. Can you imagine not soaking in a bath after your host blathered on and on about how she mixed you a custom bath salt, complete with “bath tea bag” of flower petal if you didn’t feel like it?
There is a moment when Meghan’s guest is teaching her to make dumplings (Meghan’s guests often do the actual work while she faffs about in the kitchen, telling stories of her legendary hostessing skills) Meghan is stopped in her tracks as her friend says to mix a slurry. “A slurry? I’ve NEVER heard this word!” she exclaims. She breaks into a bit of a refrain about a slurry, it’s such a novel word. Really? A slurry? What home cook has never made a cornstarch water mixture to thicken something, or at the very least, heard of it?
There are many other awkward, cringey bits, like when Mindy Kaling refers to Meghan by her maiden name, Markle; and Meghan rushes to scold her “It’s not Markle… I’m Sussex now!” in a tone she attempts to play off as giggly, though she’s obviously very sensitive about it — enough so to scold her so-called friend out over it. She explains she’s making this new life where she can be herself and shares this special last name with her children, though surely Meghan knows her children’s legal last names are not, in fact, Sussex but Mountbatten-Windsor? Sussex is merely her styling, a name gifted by the institution she is throwing a party for herself in the last episode to celebrate escaping from.
Through it all, there is the clapping. Meghan is constantly clapping, with her hands lifted high in front of her face, fingers perfectly straight and flat. Greeting a friend who has just come over? Clap. Taking a drink order? Clap. Tasting a bite of food? Clap and a wiggle. If you made a drinking game centered around every time Meghan claps, you’d end each episode on the floor.
While the show is shot beautifully and there was clearly a fantastic production team, with an incredible camera crew, and amazing style, the show really needed a director who wasn’t the host. Meghan jumps from story to story in an utterly confusing way. In one moment, she’s making donuts and says she will bake them, since she’s never made donuts, and baking sounds easier than frying. Not even forty seconds later, she says she used to work at a shop that made mini donuts, and she used to make them when she worked there.
She often talks of being proud of the life she’s built and the home she’s curated, but never shows any of it, opting for a set instead of filming in her own home. She hosts a sort of launch party for her new persona — Meghan Sussex — a title for a job she didn’t want to keep.
As far as the show goes, if you don’t take it too seriously, it isn’t horrible to watch. Meghan’s style is whimsical and fun, and she shows some pretty decent looking food, pasta aside. Her tips for styling flowers are genuinely useful. If you have nothing but piles of money to spend, all day to prance around, and no access to Pinterest yourself, you’ll find a ton of inspiration.’
The only point I’d argue with here, was her floral arranging tips were pants.