For nearly a decade, the Kudu Collective was a staple of South London's dining scene - a trio of Peckham venues built on South African flavours, open-fire cooking and an easy warmth. The decision to relocate to Marylebone raised a few eyebrows, and broke a few hearts, but this new chapter from Patrick Williams and Amy Corbin hasn't abandoned the group’s roots; it’s simply been reimagined for a different crowd - a more polished, softly smouldering take on what Kudu does best.
An open kitchen, built around a gleaming braai grill, forms the room's dramatic centre point. Counter seating provides a front-row seat to the action whilst high-top tables and cushioned booths offer a more relaxed vantage point. The palette leans heavily into Kalahari tones: dark woods, burnt terracottas, and red marble tabletops threaded with gold, with sprawling hand-painted murals, and a kudu head, mounted front and centre, that watches over diners as they eat. On a Monday, the room buzzes; a mix of smoke, chatter, and hum from the open kitchen, as we tuck ourselves into a cosy corner, spicy Margarita in hand.
A handful of favourites have made it across the river. The Kudu bread is as essential as ever: a soft, seed-studded brioche in a cast-iron dish, served alongside pools of melted butters. We opt for the Cape Malay version: glossy, warmly spiced, and sweet with pickled shallots, dragging hunks of bread through it without pause, just stopping long enough to consider ordering another round.
The prawns are another Peckham classic. They arrive with heads still on, shells blistered from the grill, swimming in a delicate peri peri sauce that brings a tempered warmth. From the braai, the pork chop is a standout - thick cut, tender, and lacquered in a bold ‘monkey gland’ sauce, that’s all sweetness, and tangy depth. Sides are perhaps less consistent. The African carrots feel smothered by a drizzle of goat's curd, too bold for what is supposed to be a gentle accompaniment.
For dessert, the Kudu ‘Kit Kat’ brings a moment of theatre. Sliced kumquats are layered with a rich chocolate mousse, a marshmallow crown that’s toasted tableside with hot coals, for a sweet smoky finish.
Service is friendly, if a touch too attentive, but nothing that won’t settle with time. Prices, unsurprisingly, have risen with the move, and a meal can easily edge into eye-watering territory. Even so, Kudu 2.0 has carved out its place, attracting a new gaggle of Marylebone devotees with its fiery cooking and bold flavours.