From the outside, the Prince of Peckham comes across a bit shouty. ‘WELCOME TO PECKHAM’ is written in ginormous, spotlit letters above the entrance, announcing to passers-by that this pub has arrived in London’s trendiest neighbourhood. Inside, things are more understated, a dim chandelier over the bar and a couple of plump sofas just inside the door giving the place a comfortable, lived-in feel that other boozers spend years trying to create.
On a quiet night midweek, it’s a great place to settle in with a couple of pints and a board game. But don’t expect it to be that sleepy all the time: a packed schedule of events including open mic nights, dance classes and disco yoga (yes, really) mean the place gets plenty more lively. It’s all part of the pub’s aim to provide a platform for local creatives to do their thing.
Whatever you’re there for, make sure you arrive with an empty stomach. The kitchen plays host to Street Feast favourites White Men Can’t Jerk, and these guys make the finest chicken wings you’ll probably ever eat. Doused in Red Stripe and buttermilk then finished with an addictive honey-and-chilli glaze, they’re absolutely killer. Save space for a plate of fries too – they come with a generous dusting of jerk salt and mayo that somehow makes them taste like a posh Maccy D’s.
The Prince of Peckham pulls off all this without looking like it’s trying too hard, and that’s probably the most charming thing about it. While other new joints in up-and-coming neighbourhoods can feel a bit forced, this one manages to avoid those pitfalls. If anything’s worth shouting about, it’s that.