Screen & Sound · The Lori Diaries
I went into With Love, Meghan expecting a cosy little escape: a beautiful kitchen, something delicious in the oven, and perhaps a hosting trick I could steal without first purchasing an entire California estate. I came away with a more complicated feeling. The kitchen was beautiful. I just wasn't sure I wanted to stay in it for eight episodes.
I first noticed the show sitting in Netflix's “Coming Soon” section, and I was curious. Not because I was waiting for royal revelations. Quite the opposite. I liked the idea of Meghan doing something that had nothing to do with explaining herself to the world.
Cooking, flowers, friends, little rituals that make an ordinary afternoon nicer. That sounds like exactly the sort of television I should enjoy.
I love a lifestyle show. I will happily watch someone prepare a dinner party I have no intention of hosting, in a kitchen I will never own, using equipment I would have to Google before attempting to operate. Sometimes I don't need television to challenge me. Sometimes I want it to make me tea, metaphorically speaking.
So I wasn't asking With Love, Meghan to change my life.
I was just hoping it would make me feel invited.
Everything Is Beautiful. Almost Too Beautiful.
Season one takes place at a gorgeous estate in Montecito, California. Meghan prepares food, arranges flowers, makes things by hand, and welcomes friends and guest chefs, including Mindy Kaling, Roy Choi, and Alice Waters.
It's visually lovely. The light is soft. The flowers seem to know where to stand. The kitchen is so tidy that I briefly felt the need to apologise to mine.
And there is real pleasure in watching someone take care with small things. A thoughtfully arranged plate of fruit is still a nice gesture, even if the person eating it would probably be just as happy with the fruit in a bowl.
The trouble, for me, is that the presentation rarely relaxes.
Everything feels carefully considered, right down to the smallest finishing touch. After a while, I stopped wondering what Meghan would make next and started wondering whether anything was allowed to look ordinary for five minutes.
I didn't need a burnt cake or a dramatic kitchen disaster. I just wanted a little more room for life to interrupt the aesthetic.
A Beautiful Set Isn't the Same as a Lie
One detail attracted a lot of attention when the show came out: the beautiful house used for filming isn't Meghan and Harry's family home.
I understand why people noticed. The series is presented with the intimacy of being welcomed into someone's domestic world, and knowing that much of it was filmed elsewhere changes that feeling a little.
But I don't think using a separate filming location is the scandal some people wanted it to be. Meghan explained that she wanted to protect her family home's privacy rather than bring a large production crew into it. That seems entirely reasonable to me.
Besides, television is made. Cameras have to go somewhere. People repeat takes. Someone decides which bowl looks nicest next to the lemons. I don't expect a production to pretend it isn't a production.
What I do expect is for all that careful arranging to create a feeling worth watching.
My problem with the show isn't that it's curated. It's that I often notice the curation more than the connection it's supposed to create.
There's a difference between watching a beautifully prepared moment and feeling something because of it. For me, With Love, Meghan doesn't cross that gap often enough.
The Best Moments Happen When Someone Else Joins the Conversation
The show becomes more engaging when Meghan and her guests have something specific to talk about or learn together.
I particularly liked the episode with chef Roy Choi. Their conversation about growing up in Los Angeles gives the cooking a little context, and Choi brings expertise and personality to the kitchen. The discussion touches on Korean fried chicken and the history of misconceptions about MSG. Suddenly, there is more to take away than a pretty plate.
That episode gave me a glimpse of the programme I wanted more of: less emphasis on presenting a perfect afternoon, more time spent enjoying an interesting one.
There are other appealing ideas throughout the season, too. I like the impulse to put care into hosting. I like that making something for a friend can be an activity you share rather than another task to complete before they arrive. And yes, I can appreciate a flower arrangement without needing to recreate it exactly.
What I miss is a little spontaneity. A conversation that wanders somewhere unexpected. A guest who takes over the kitchen for a moment. Meghan learning something and letting us enjoy the process with her, rather than always returning us to the finished picture.
When the people become more interesting than the presentation, the show starts to work.
Do We Need Every Lifestyle Show to Be Relatable?
This is where I have to be fair to the show, and to myself.
I don't actually need Meghan's life to look like mine. If I demanded that from every programme I watched, I would have considerably fewer things to stream.
Sometimes aspiration is the point. We watch beautiful places, beautiful homes, and beautiful meals because they're lovely to look at. There's nothing wrong with wanting a little escapism after a long day.
And I don't believe that every woman who appears on television has to prove she's authentic by showing us a messy kitchen, an awkward morning, or a personal confession. Privacy isn't dishonesty.
Still, a show can be private and have personality. It can be polished and funny. It can teach you something without making you feel as though you've wandered into a very tasteful advertisement.
That's the balance I kept waiting for here.
For all its talk of finding joy in the everyday, the series often makes the everyday look like an event that requires a lot of preparation. I kept thinking about the small moments I actually love: someone dropping by unexpectedly, putting the kettle on, and sitting at the kitchen table long after the tea has gone cold.
No special occasion. No perfect table setting. Maybe not even matching mugs.
Just the sort of afternoon you remember because of the person who was there.
So, Is With Love, Meghan Worth Watching?
If you love gentle lifestyle television, pretty kitchens, hosting ideas, and shows that ask very little of you after a busy day, I can see the appeal. There are pleasant moments here, and the episode with Roy Choi is worth a look if you're interested in food and conversation.
If you're hoping for an unusually revealing portrait of Meghan, a practical cooking course, or eight episodes full of spontaneous chemistry, this first season might leave you wanting more.
I wouldn't describe it as the disaster some of the online commentary made it out to be. But I also can't say it gave me a strong reason to keep coming back.
And perhaps that's the most frustrating thing about it. The ingredients for an enjoyable show are right there. The setting is beautiful. The guests have stories to tell. The idea of making everyday life a little more thoughtful is one I genuinely like.
I just wish the finished series trusted those ingredients enough to loosen its grip on the presentation.
I started With Love, Meghan because I wanted something comforting. And parts of it are. I admired the flowers, noted a few ideas, and spent a completely unreasonable amount of time thinking about how lovely it would be to have that kitchen.
But by the end, I realised what I want from a show like this isn't a demonstration of how beautiful life can look.
I want to feel some of the joy that makes someone bother to create all that beauty in the first place.
The loveliest thing about inviting someone into your home isn't whether the flowers match the napkins. It's whether they leave feeling glad they came. With Love, Meghan gave me plenty to look at. I just wish it had made me feel a little more at home.
Have you watched the first season of With Love, Meghan? Did you find it relaxing, inspiring, a little too polished, or something else entirely? I'd love to hear what you thought.
xoxo,
Lori
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