Meghan Markle’s Netflix cookery show has finally hit the screens, delivering a spectacle that left audiences talking.
The highlight of the show was a grand celebration brunch featuring none other than her mother, Doria Ragland, who made a brief and hilariously awkward appearance. However, the most memorable takeaway wasn’t the quiche or the mimosas—it was the glaring absence of warmth between mother and daughter. Doria arrived in a chic tan halter-neck top paired with breezy orange trousers, only to be met with a greeting so underwhelming it was almost comical. Meghan’s reaction? A flat, “Oh, Mommy’s here,” uttered with all the enthusiasm of someone acknowledging a package delivery. The moment lacked any genuine excitement, setting the tone for the rest of the encounter.
Doria, ever the supportive mother, made an effort to express interest in the garden-fresh spread and politely acknowledged Meghan’s work. But then, a noticeable void became apparent—where was the hug? Where was the warm embrace between mother and daughter? Nowhere to be found. Later in the episode, Doria was seen casually side-hugging someone else, making it abundantly clear that if Meghan had embraced her mother, the moment would have made the final cut. This raises the question—was there some behind-the-scenes tension, or did a hug not fit into the show’s meticulously curated “authenticity”?
Just when the episode seemed strange enough, Meghan managed to make it even more bizarre by raising a toast—to herself. In a display of sheer self-importance, she clinked glasses and thanked everyone for loving her, as if brunch were a ceremony dedicated to her existence. Forget celebrating friendship, family, or the joy of food—this was a self-love fest, starring Meghan Markle, with everyone else reduced to background characters. The audacity was almost impressive, but mostly, it was just painfully cringeworthy.
Adding to the awkwardness was yet another instance of Meghan’s infamous transatlantic identity crisis. “Oh, Mommy’s here,” she announced, in a forced attempt to sound more British. If she had spent her entire life calling her mother “Mom,” why the sudden change? Was she mimicking Harry’s way of referring to his late mother, Diana? Or was it just another calculated nod to the royal connection she refuses to let go of? Whatever the reason, it felt unnatural, contrived, and incredibly awkward.
Doria, the woman who supposedly lives with Meghan and Harry, barely registered in the scene, appearing more like an uncomfortable guest than a proud mother. If this was meant to be a heartwarming family moment, why did it feel so stiff and staged? For someone who built a brand around being warm and relatable, Meghan seemed remarkably selective about who received that affection, and spoiler alert—it wasn’t her own mother.
As the credits rolled on this painfully orchestrated spectacle, one thing became crystal clear: Meghan Markle’s greatest talent isn’t cooking, hosting, or storytelling—it’s making even the simplest human interactions feel forced and transactional. No amount of mimosas could disguise the lack of genuine connection at that table.
