Quick take: the finale is a messy, delicious, emotional feast. It mixes palace politics, food romance, time-bending feels, and one chef who refuses to quit. If you loved the show’s vibe — food, flirt, and furious betrayals — this will stick the landing. If you wanted a neat, textbook finale with zero blood and zero melodrama, well… that’s not this drama’s brand.
TL;DR
- Emotional vs. Logic: The finale prioritizes the core romance and emotional payoff over airtight time-travel mechanics and political logic.
- Chaos Climax: The plot rushes through a coup attempt, Heon’s near-tyranny, a friend’s sacrifice (Seong-jae’s death), and Ji-young’s life-saving stabbing.
- Food as Fate: The mangunrok (Ji-young’s journal) and food memories, especially bibimbap, are the core devices connecting the lovers across centuries.
- Happy Reunion: Ji-young returns to 2025; Heon keeps his promise and follows her, leading to a satisfying modern-day domestic ending.
- Verdict: Rated 4/5 stars for strong chemistry and creative food metaphors, despite rushed plotting.
What happens (short recap)
After Heon’s proposal and that kiss, Ji-young still wants to go back to 2025. She loves him, yes. But she has a life and a dad waiting. Heon makes her promise to return someday. She makes him promise not to become a tyrant. Promises are cute, fragile things.
Then the birthday banquet turns rotten. A record about Heon’s mother’s death surfaces. It looks horrible. Public shock. Coup Squad grins. Heon nearly slashes his way through the court. Ji-young stops him. Drama mode = full blast.
Ji-young revives Heon’s maternal grandmother with chocolates. Grandma reveals the late queen wanted Heon to be a sage king. Heon breaks down. Instead of becoming the tyrant history recorded, he falters. The Coup Squad’s plan collapses — temporarily.
Plot twist: Prince Jesan dons a mask and frames Heon for mass murder. Heon is later ambushed; Seong-jae dies protecting him. Tears, rage, guilt. Heon accepts being dethroned to protect the throne’s future, but Jesan’s ambition won’t stop there.
Heon writes a note for Ji-young from prison — the touching “dearly beloved” lines. Gong-gil smuggles in a butterfly ornament and confirms Ji-young’s fate. Ji-young is trapped, mangunrok (her journal) reveals Heon’s food memories. She gets stabbed saving Heon and vanishes back to 2025 through the mangunrok’s magic. Heon collapses, but later shows up in 2025 to keep his promise. Cue modern bibimbap and happy domestic vibes.
Standout scenes
- The banquet meltdown — perfect pressure-cooker moment. Food and power collide.
- Seong-jae’s sacrifice — raw emotional punch. The bestfriend death lands heavy.
- The mangunrok reveal — why the ornament mattered. Tear-triggering and clever.
- Heon’s time jump to 2025 — goofy logistics, wildly satisfying payoff.
Characters & performances
- Heon (Lee Chae-min) — multi-layered. Tyrant. Lover. Broken son. The actor sells every phase.
- Ji-young (Yoona) — fierce and practical. She’s the moral compass and the chef with backbone.
- Gong-gil, Seong-jae, Mok-ju — essential supporting crew who carry heart and comic relief. Mok-ju underused but memorable.
Acting in the finale is mostly solid. The emotional beats land because the actors commit. Chemistry? OTP delivers. I laughed, gasped, and ugly-cried in roughly that order.
Themes & food metaphors
This show makes food a language for memory, healing, and identity. Bibimbap = home. A single dish becomes a tether between centuries. The series uses cuisine as emotional shorthand. That works. It also explores revenge vs. wisdom, and how history can be rewritten by small acts (and better seasoning).
Time travel mechanics? Dodgy. But the emotional logic holds. If you’re okay with “rules-lite” time travel for the sake of romance, you’ll be fine.
Pacing, tone, and structure
The finale rushes through a lot. Revolt, family secrets, near-regicide, prison, rescue, a stabbing, and a time-travel reunion — all in two episodes. That density can feel crammed. Yet the show balances its heavier moments with the kitchen crew’s warmth. The tonal swings are loud — sometimes brilliantly so, sometimes a bit jarring.
If you wanted more modern-day romance and less palace bloodshed, you’ll wish for an extra episode or two. But the writers prioritized stakes and catharsis, not an extended romance montage. Fair enough.
What worked
- Emotional core: Heon and Ji-young’s bond never lost credibility.
- Food-as-story device: consistently clever and emotionally meaningful.
- Supporting cast: they bring laughs and real sacrifice.
- Finale payoff: the reunion is earned and satisfies.
What didn’t
- Time travel logic is fuzzy. Don’t analyze mechanics for too long.
- A few characters deserved more screen time (Mok-ju, I’m looking at you).
- The coup plotting leaned on classic melodrama tropes. Predictable? A little. Fun? Also a little.
My take
I’m willing to forgive messy mechanics if the heart is real. This show had heart in spades. The kitchen scenes gave it charm. The political scenes raised stakes. The emotional payoff? Chef’s kiss. Also, historically-themed food romance is rare and this one did it with flair. Yes, I wanted more modern-day domestic bliss, but the finale gave me the important promise — Heon keeps his word. That’s the main course.
I also appreciate the irony: the Coup Squad who tried to create a tyrant ended up being the tyrants themselves. Poetic. And the decision to tie food to memory rather than a purely plot device made the ending feel personal, not just convenient.
Final verdict
Bon Appetit Your Majesty sticks its landing even when it stumbles. It’s messy, heartfelt, sometimes silly, and wonderfully watchable. If you care about chemistry, food, and a bittersweet-but-happy ending, this is a must-watch. If you’re a stickler for airtight logic, brace yourself for some leaps.
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐☆ (4 out of 5 stars)
Reasons: Strong performances, emotional payoff, creative use of food and memory. Loses one star for rushed plotting and fuzzy time-travel rules.
