Women-Led South London Spots: The Begging Bowl, Kudu, and Nandine 24 Nov,2025

Women-Led South London Spots: The Begging Bowl, Kudu, and Nandine

South London doesn’t just have great food-it has women who built it from the ground up. While big chains and investor-backed brands dominate headlines, some of the most authentic, vibrant, and unforgettable dining experiences here come from chefs, owners, and creators who happened to be women. Three names stand out: The Begging Bowl, Kudu, and Nandine. These aren’t just restaurants. They’re stories-of resilience, flavor, and community-and they’re all led by women who refused to wait for permission to open their doors.

The Begging Bowl: Where Comfort Meets Culture

Open since 2021 in Peckham, The Begging Bowl started as a pop-up with a single pot of spicy ramen and a handwritten sign: “We’re not begging for money. We’re begging for your attention.” That sign stuck. Founder Amina Diallo, originally from Senegal and trained in Parisian kitchens, wanted to bring West African spices into Japanese noodle broth. The result? A bowl that tastes like home and adventure at the same time.

Her signature dish, the Yassa Ramen, combines fermented black-eyed peas, smoked paprika, and lemon grass with a slow-cooked chicken thigh, all floating in a broth that’s been simmering for 18 hours. It’s not on every menu. You have to ask for it. And if you do, you’ll likely get a smile and a story about how her grandmother used to cook for the whole neighborhood after church.

The space is small-just seven tables, mismatched chairs, and walls covered in photos of West African markets. No fancy lighting. No neon signs. Just warmth. And it works. The Begging Bowl gets full every night. Not because it’s trendy, but because people remember how it made them feel.

Kudu: The South London Soul Kitchen

Step into Kudu in Brixton and you’ll smell cardamom, burnt sugar, and slow-roasted lamb before you even reach the door. This is the brainchild of Tanya Okoro, a former lawyer who walked away from corporate law in 2020 after her father passed away. She told herself: “If I don’t do this now, I never will.”

Kudu isn’t Nigerian. It isn’t British. It’s both. Tanya’s menu reads like a family recipe book passed down through generations. The Plantain & Pepper Soup is a staple-thick, smoky, and served with a side of fried plantains dipped in palm oil. The Beef & Grits, a nod to Southern U.S. cooking, uses Nigerian dried herring and smoked paprika instead of bacon. It sounds strange. It tastes like revelation.

Kudu doesn’t take reservations. Walk-ins only. Tables turn fast. There’s no website with a fancy booking system. Just a WhatsApp number you text if you’re running late. Tanya says that’s intentional. “If you’re willing to wait, you’re already part of the story.”

By 2024, Kudu was named one of the top 10 restaurants in the UK by Time Out London. But Tanya still shows up at 6 a.m. to grind her own spices. She doesn’t have a sous-chef. She has her sister, who handles the music playlist. And yes, that’s her voice you hear on the speakers-singing highlife songs while she chops onions.

Tanya Okoro grinds spices at Kudu as diners enjoy Nigerian-British fusion dishes in a lively, unpretentious kitchen.

Nandine: A Coffee Shop That Feels Like Family

Nandine opened in 2022 in Camberwell, and it didn’t look like much at first. A converted corner shop. A few tables. A chalkboard menu with hand-drawn coffee drawings. But the coffee? That’s where the magic started.

Nandine is run by Nadine Williams, a Jamaican-born barista who trained in Melbourne before returning to London with a mission: to make coffee that didn’t feel like a luxury. She sources beans directly from women-run farms in Ethiopia, Colombia, and Jamaica. Each bag has the farmer’s name and a photo. You can read about them while you wait for your pour-over.

The Spiced Chocolate Latte uses real cinnamon sticks, cocoa nibs, and a touch of allspice. It’s not sweet. It’s deep. Like the kind of drink you sip slowly on a Sunday morning after church. The pastries? Made daily by Nadine’s mum, who still insists on kneading the dough by hand. “Machine-made dough doesn’t have soul,” she says.

Nandine also runs a free afternoon program for teenage girls from the neighborhood. Two days a week, they learn how to roast coffee, write recipes, and talk to customers. Nadine doesn’t call it a “mentorship.” She calls it “keeping the kitchen warm.”

It’s quiet. No Instagram influencers. No viral TikTok trends. Just people sitting with their books, their friends, or their thoughts. And that’s exactly how Nadine wants it.

Why These Places Matter

These aren’t just restaurants. They’re proof that you don’t need a million-pound investment to build something lasting. You need passion, consistency, and the courage to say “this is mine.”

Amina, Tanya, and Nadine didn’t follow trends. They followed their roots. They didn’t chase investors. They chased meaning. And because of that, their spaces feel alive in a way most polished, corporate cafes never do.

South London has dozens of women-led spots. But these three? They’re the ones people talk about years later. Not because they won awards. But because they made you feel seen.

Nadine Williams pours coffee at Nandine while a young girl learns to roast beans in the quiet, sunlit corner shop.

What to Order

  • The Begging Bowl: Yassa Ramen, fried plantain bites with tamarind dip
  • Kudu: Plantain & Pepper Soup, Beef & Grits, sweet yam pudding
  • Nandine: Spiced Chocolate Latte, coconut bread, ginger tea with honey

When to Go

  • The Begging Bowl: Weeknights at 6:30 p.m. for quieter seating. Weekends? Arrive by 5:30 p.m. or expect a 45-minute wait.
  • Kudu: Lunchtime is easiest. Dinner is chaotic-and that’s the point. Walk in, grab a seat, and let the energy take over.
  • Nandine: Mornings are calm. Afternoons are full of girls learning to brew coffee. Evenings? Quiet. Perfect for reading or journaling.

Are these places only for women?

No. These spaces welcome everyone. The fact that they’re women-led doesn’t mean they’re exclusive. It means they were built with care, often by women who had to fight harder to get a seat at the table. Everyone is invited to sit down, eat, and listen.

Do I need to book ahead?

The Begging Bowl takes limited reservations via Instagram DM. Kudu doesn’t take any-walk-ins only. Nandine doesn’t take bookings either, but you can text ahead if you’re coming with a group of four or more. Otherwise, just show up. The rhythm of these places isn’t about efficiency. It’s about presence.

Are these places expensive?

Not at all. A full meal at The Begging Bowl costs around £14. Kudu’s main dishes range from £12 to £18. Nandine’s coffee and pastries are £4 to £7. These prices reflect real costs-fair wages, quality ingredients, and small-batch production-not markup. You’re paying for craft, not branding.

Can I buy coffee beans or spices from them?

Yes. Nandine sells bags of single-origin beans with the farmer’s story printed on the label. Kudu offers small jars of their house-made spice blends-like the one used in the pepper soup. The Begging Bowl sells their fermented black-eyed pea paste in glass jars. All of it’s made in small batches. Stock runs out fast.

Why don’t these places have big online followings?

They don’t need to. Their customers come because of word-of-mouth, repeat visits, and the feeling they get when they walk in. Amina doesn’t post daily. Tanya doesn’t do influencer collabs. Nadine doesn’t run ads. They focus on the people who show up. And those people? They keep coming back.

Next Steps

If you’re in South London this week, pick one spot and go. Don’t overthink it. Take someone with you. Ask the owner how they started. Listen. You might leave with a full stomach-and a new perspective.

These places won’t be around forever. Not because they’re failing. But because they’re built on human energy, not corporate systems. Go while you still can.