Opinion

Cooking as therapy, lessons from a Korean Drama

The smell of certain foods can transport us to our childhood, and a shared meal can dissolve conflict more effectively than hours of conversation

The South Korean drama “Bon appétit, your majesty” captured my attention not only for its amazing historical setting but for the warmth and subtle emotional lessons embedded within its story. The plot centres around Yeon Ji-yeong, a modern chef who gets mysteriously transported back to the Joseon dynasty in Korea during a solar eclipse. She arrives at the royal court of King Yi Heon, who appoints her as a palace chef after impressing him with her innovative cooking, which combines modern techniques with traditional ingredients.
The show offers a delightful blend of historical events unfolding at the magnificent palace quarters, along with a heartwarming romance, which are common ingredients in Korean dramas.
Yet behind the humour and kitchen competitions, the series does a great job exploring the psychology of food and how cooking can be a language of care and a tool for emotional expression and resilience.
At the palace, tensions rise among corrupt officials who are plotting against the king. Yet Ji-yeong disrupts this rigid world not through force or authority, but through flavour. She takes familiar ingredients and reshapes them with modern techniques, surprising everyone in the palace, including the Chinese envoy who visits with his team of royal cooks and special Chinese ingredients.
We see how Ji-yeong creates not just meals, but moments of connection and emotional comfort. I enjoyed watching how certain dishes brought buried childhood memories of the King and Queen dowager, who were both separated from their mothers at an early age.
In psychology, food is deeply connected to our memory and emotions. We often celebrate by eating special dishes, and when we feel sad or depressed, we may lose our appetite or restrict our food intake.
The smell of certain foods can transport us to our childhood, and a shared meal can dissolve conflict more effectively than hours of conversation. Cooking can also be therapeutic. It demands presence, measuring, tasting, adjusting; all of this pulls the mind away from endless worries and grounds it in the senses. For many people, the kitchen becomes a refuge where control, creativity and comfort return.
In the series, Ji-yeong’s journey reflects another psychological theme of adaptation. When she was suddenly removed from her familiar world, she was able to navigate new social norms, understand power dynamics and deal with dangers. Her survival depends not on physical strength, but on flexibility, empathy and emotional intelligence. These are the same qualities that help us cope with major life transitions such as loss, a new role, or an unexpected challenge.
What I found interesting about this show is how resilience was portrayed, not as heroism or perfection. We see Ji-yeong doubt herself, make mistakes and feel homesick. Yet she keeps going, one dish at a time. Her cooking becomes a reminder of who she is, even in a world that is not her own.
In my opinion, the show reminds us of the importance of slowing down, tasting more carefully, and acknowledging that nourishment is not only for the body but for the mind and heart as well.

Dr Hamed al Sinawi The writer is a senior consultant psychiatrist at SQU Hospital