In 1982, Glamour published a recipe for Engagement Chicken. It got the name, the story goes, because staffers cooked the lemon roast chicken recipe for their boyfriends, who then all shortly proposed. It was an accident, really; none of these women cooked the chicken in an attempt to become engaged, it just happened. The name for Marry Me Chicken, Lindsay Funston’s 2016 recipe for Delish, also came about accidentally. After cooking the skillet chicken with sun dried tomatoes, herbs, and cream, “Ms. Funston’s video producer took a bite and declared, ‘I’d marry you for that chicken!’” says the New York Times. Again, no intent, just a joyous reaction that sparked the name.
But the idea of a recipe one would marry for has taken on a life of its own. If you’re at all attuned to food on TikTok or Instagram, you’ve likely been inundated with “Marry Me” recipes, all with cheeky captions about getting “the ring,” or warnings not to make this for anyone you feel lukewarm towards. Some women (and some men, but mostly women) are making it for their partners, saying “legend has it” (yes, an eight-year-old legend) that if you make it for someone, they have to marry you.
Funston’s recipe has spawned a world of adaptations, such that “Marry Me” has become a flavor, more than one specific dish. There’s a vegetarian riff using beans, and a version with chicken meatballs instead of chicken breasts. There’s “Marry Me” chicken noodle soup, orzo, gnocchi, and ramen. There are substitutes with salmon and steak. There’s an “Asian” version which just uses gochujang. And there are some that don’t even reference the original recipe, instead using “Marry Me” as code for anything so rich, comforting, and delicious you supposedly won’t want to stop eating it. But they are not calling these recipes “Comforting and delicious pot roast,” to take one example. Marriage is how you know it’s good.
I know it’s all largely a joke, but the prevalence of “marry me” recipes doesn’t sit right with me. To cook with the ask to “marry me” reaffirms that marriage is the best possible thing that could come out of cooking for someone you care about. It’s a reminder that marriage is and should be the end goal. Given the evidence that the institution of marriage has little to do with supporting healthy relationships, why is that still the case?
When I see “marry me” as the draw for a recipe, I can’t help but think about The State of Marriage today. In her book This American Ex-Wife, Lyz Lenz writes about how America uses marriage and the benefits it bestows as a substitute for a social safety net, encouraging women to stay in unfulfilling, and sometimes abusive marriages, “as if being married and miserable and staying off welfare were preferable to being happy and having a social safety net.” Studies frequently show that in heterosexual marriages, men benefit and women die earlier, due to the stress of an unequal division of household labor. There is also a push to codify who exactly should be married. Right-wing politicians want to make it harder to leave a marriage, going after no-fault divorce, while also trying to ban same-sex marriage again. And many disabled people cannot marry without losing government benefits.
It’s also hard not to see “Marry Me” recipes in conversation with “tradwife” content, which idealizes a life in which a husband supports his nuclear family on his one salary, while the wife stays home to clean, make herself beautiful, and cook everything from scratch. These women often speak of how great this life is, how they no longer face the stress of work, and how fulfilling it is to nurture their families this way. This may all be social media performance meant to drive engagement, but engagement to what idea? The overarching message here is that marriage is the goal, and you should put everything you have into achieving it.
None of these criticisms have anything to do with the original Marry Me Chicken recipe, which seems to deserve its popularity. But even then, the video producer who inspired its moniker did not shriek “I’d give you a million dollars!” or even “I love you.” They would not have cried “marry me” if they had not, on some level, absorbed marriage as the best thing one could offer — or as a guarantee of perpetual service. To say you want to marry someone for making you a good chicken dinner is to say you want to continue to be on the receiving end of this dynamic.
It is a beautiful thing to express love for one’s partner through cooking. Part of any good relationship is knowing you are cared for, that someone is thinking of your needs and finds true joy in seeing you nourished. And crucially, it requires reciprocation. Marriage, as an institution, has nothing to do with that. It currently is many couples’ most straightforward shot at sharing benefits like health care and inheritance, but at its worst it encourages the most patriarchal, heteronormative expectations of coupled life. And at its best, marriage is a confirmation of a good relationship, not its final form.
“The truth is, you can cook this chicken for or with whomever you want. The things women want change — and so do women’s magazines,” writes Glamour of the Engagement Chicken. There may be no changing the names of these recipes at this point, but marriage doesn’t have to be synonymous with the best life has to offer. Instead, think about a moment that felt as good as a bite of creamy, umami-rich, herbaceous, juicy chicken tastes. Does it taste like love? Like being held and supported by those who care about you? Like the possibility of living your life exactly the way you want? That may taste like marriage. It could just as easily be Divorce Chicken.
