A reservation at South African restaurant Kudu’s new home in Marylebone threw up many questions. Can a well-loved Peckham restaurant really relocate to fancy-pants Marylebone and retain its homespun charm? And, what is a “Kudu kit kat”, and could it even remotely capture the joys of my red-wrappered, lifelong support system? The KitKat is, after all, a design classic, so tampering with it makes me uneasy.
Within moments of being seated, however, another question arose: how many miles do you need to run to counteract the aftereffects of Kudu’s bread with curried butter, which comes melted, glossy and with gently fried curried leaves? Grab hunks of this warm bread and stuff them greedily into your mouth. It’s an eat-as-if-no-one’s watching kind of starter, which went down well in Peckham, but in Marylebone, the women wear white trouser suits and pale, unspongeable fabrics, so let’s hope there’s a good dry cleaner close by.
Kudu’s previous incarnation certainly planted a flag for South African cuisine, favouring braai cookery, biltong scratchings and an extensive South African wine list. Here, in its posh new second life, expect more of that earthy, live-fire approach. A piece of confit trout off the braai was really very good: crisp, well-seasoned skin, melting flakes and a host of sea veg and pickles. We ate it with a side of rich, crisp beef-fat fingerling potatoes. Meanwhile, the braai pork chop – a whopper – comes with “monkey gland” sauce and more pickles. Fear not: no monkeys were harmed during the making of this sauce, so please do not converge on W1 brandishing angry banners (it’s actually a sort of dark-brown, sharp but sweet chutney-ketchup hybrid with garlic and Worcestershire sauce).
While the decor of this new space sets out its stall as South African, this is definitely not a themed restaurant. The lighting is campfire twinkly, and the vibe sexy safari chic. It’s soft and plush, with an abundance of mirrors and textured pink and peach surfaces. There are shimmering green tiles around the open braai, and tasteful murals of scampering antelopes. In fact, it may well be London’s prettiest restaurant of 2025 so far. Still, Kudu’s move will not please everyone, because in the process not only did Peckham lose the restaurant Kudu, but also three other ventures: Kudu Grill, Smokey Kudu and Curious Kudu were closed, too, or rather amalgamated into this bright, twinkly turbo-Kudu. Was this a risk? Absolutely.
Still, on the Sunday lunchtime of the third week of opening, Kudu Marylebone seems to have hit the ground running. Folk loiter by the door, sniffing around for a cancellation, and while we sit in our window seat nibbling on charred sugar snaps in a rich walnut sauce, more than one passer-by approaches the glass, peers inside and mouths appreciative things about the look of my braai king prawns with a peri peri sauce that was perhaps a bit too subtle after that curry butter. Kudu clearly has kerb appeal, even if I occasionally felt a bit like a baboon at Regent’s Park zoo.
Lunch began with an instruction from our server that the bread was a must-order, or chef-patron Patrick Williams would be offended. It was a joke, obviously … or was it? We complied, and soon a pan of warm bread appeared with that aforementioned vat of curried butter; other options feature house-cured bacon and shrimp butter with almonds. Bread and butter is undoubtedly one of the loveliest mouthfuls on God’s great earth, and here I’ve found a new way to enjoy it. We ordered a round of smoked prawn crullers, which were itsy-bitsy, posh 1970s dinner-party tarts filled with prawns, miso and pickled shallots.
Considering this was a Sunday in late summer, the vibe was nothing short of buzzy: old Kudu customers turned up with children and grandparents, and copious rounds of Kalahari biltong were ordered alongside trays of Saffa Ritas (tequila, chilli, Supasawa and Cointreau). Having grown up sighing my way through British Methodist church-based Sundays, I always feel a bit uneasy when I see people enjoying their late weekend – in this instance with black bream with zhoug butter rotis and large glasses of cold Zwartland white – when they should be indoors watching Harry Secombe’s Highway, seeking out a Viennetta and worrying about Monday.
The Kudu kit kat, by the way, is a bowl of rich chocolate mousse with sweet kumquats and foamy marshmallows, toasted tableside with a chic set of hot irons, as if we were camping in the wilds of the Kruger national park. It was absolutely nothing like a KitKat, but I was wholly on board and happy to push my boundaries. Kudu is already a delight, and the best of luck with getting a table. Marylebone’s wildlife is circling, and they’re ready for dinner.
Kudu 7 Moxon Street, London W1, 020-3393 6330. Open all week, lunch noon-3pm (Sat 10am-3pm, Sun 11.30am-3pm), dinner 6-10pm (Sun 6-9pm). From about £60 a head à la carte, plus drinks and service.
The next episode of Grace’s Comfort Eating podcast is out on Tuesday 30 September – listen to it here.
