As in so many of the world’s great cities, the dining experience — and the price — is often determined by the postcode, rather than the quality of the food or the talent of the chef.
Kokum gives precisely zero unprintables about this fact. It is a jewel in the increasingly sparkling array of restaurants welcoming diners south of the river.
A converted old pub on the Peckham–East Dulwich border is now a destination for lovers of fine food, thanks chiefly to chef and co-founder Sanjay Gour.
Gour didn’t set out to become one of London’s best Indian chefs. He trained as a pastry chef, of all things, working the sweet section of grand hotel kitchens. Angela Hartnett spotted him in Dubai and invited him to London to help open Murano. From there, his path turned towards Indian cooking. He landed at Michelin-starred Gymkhana — the sort of restaurant that appears on every “best Indian in London” list going — and became its head chef.
In 2017, he left to open Dastaan. In 2021, he teamed up with Simeron Lily Patel for Black Salt Sheen. Then, in 2023, the pair arrived in East Dulwich with Kokum, named after a purple fruit found along India’s western coast, including Goa. Jolly tasty, a bit obscure and entirely unbothered about being famous. Now I get it.
We arrive at a modest pub exterior. But pause for a moment and inhale. There’s a clue to what’s inside: the faint smell of barbecue.
We lean in for a lungful and step onto the deck. With that, we’re no longer on an East Dulwich pavement. The aromas and crackle of the grill welcome us in an all-enveloping embrace.
The clever first impression comes courtesy of a barbecue serving takeaway customers and diners at the pub tables out front. It smells amazing, and I already know I’m going to over-order.
By now, I’m trotting towards the door, trying not to stare at the seductively aromatic grilled delights being feasted upon outside.
Leaving the amuse-nez behind, we step into an air-conditioned, very pretty, modern dining room. They may have kept the pub frontage outside, but inside, this promises an elevated dining experience.
A bar sits up front, a last echo of the old pub, doing its own thing for people who’ve just wandered in for one. Though how you can get past that welcome and only have a pint is beyond me.
The dining room proper is tucked farther back and is big enough for the best part of ninety covers. Clean white plaster and deep, rich leather are lit by creamy lanterns, casting a warm, magic-hour glow across the room. We’re going to be dining on a permanent summer evening. Nice.
Our heads still swimming from the journey between street and table, we order far too much. If that’s all part of the plan, good luck to them. It’s delightful, and I don’t care.
The lamb chops arrive first: trimmed cutlets in an excellent marinade, charred at the bone, with the meat pulling away cleanly and still pink beneath a properly blackened tandoori crust.
The chicken lollipops follow close behind and are excellent in their own right, but they are playing second fiddle to the lamb. When you go — and you should — order the chops.
Then comes the tandoori-roasted cauliflower, chargrilled hard enough to catch and blacken at the edges while retaining some bite in the middle. It is tossed through a deep makhani sauce with a zingy, sweet chutney that I could have eaten with a spoon. This is not simply a “vegetarian option”. It is genuinely good – however you self-identify in the culinary department.
The eight-hour black dal is dark, glossy and faintly smoky, with the depth you get only from genuinely patient cooking. It is delicious and easily in the same league as several much more famous versions.
The butter chicken leans sweet rather than fiery. They’ve gone for comfort rather than heat. But there is plenty of zing in the lamb rogan josh to balance it out: a deep, brick-red gravy with real weight to it and lamb that falls apart at the touch of a fork.
The paratha and peshwari naan are pretty special on their own. I eat a whole piece before realising I haven’t used it to swirl through any of the rich sauces on the table.
I’m never quite sure about dessert in a South Asian joint. The mango ice cream does the cooling-down job it was always going to do — properly fruity, rather than the artificial orange-yellow stuff that can turn up under that name.
Then there is a syrupy cake: dense, sticky and soaked right through. It is the kind of dish you plan to share and then find yourself carefully monitoring how much the other person has eaten and whether you can reasonably take one more little slice.
Charming and tasty as the desserts are, if my budget or waistline had allowed any more food, I would have ordered another of those stunning chops instead. But if dessert is your thing, they do a superb job.
It won’t be long before we stop writing pieces that pretend to be surprised by the quality of cooking south of the river. There are some stunning places, and Kokum is one of the reasons why.
If you’re only beginning to explore down here, start with Kokum. It’s great, and you’ll be back.
Note the terrace BBQ only runs Thursday to Saturday, but if you can’t wait till the end of the week they also run private BBQ parties.
Details on the website. https://kokumlondon.com/bbqs
KOKUM 58-60 East Dulwich Road, Southwark, London, SE22 9AX, United Kingdom
Phone: 02035511883 Email: [email protected]
Opening Hours: Monday – CLOSED, Tuesday – Thursday 12:30 – 22:30; Friday – 12:30 – 23:00; Saturday – 12:00 – 23:00 and Sunday – 12:00 – 22:00
