Somehow, supposedly in order to mitigate schedule conflicts and tight journeys between gigs, a directorial meeting over coffee on a Friday afternoon turned into a two course dinner at Cosy Club. I don’t quite think this actually made up for the timings in the way we hoped, but here we are. Cosy Club feels, to me at least, like the grown up equivalent of going on a date to Pizza Express as a teenager - ideas above its station, trying so hard to convince you of its classiness and grown-up-ness through both its decor and indeed its prices, that it almost actually kind of works, until the food arrives. It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just that it’s fine. I order a steak, they at least ask how I want it done (medium rare, I’m basic af) and they broadly deliver on that. A bit overdone. The sauces, fine. Chips, acceptable. It’s all just uninspiring. You are constantly aware that for not much more (ish), you could have gone to Pasture. In Cosy Club’s defence, I was pleasantly surprised by the apple tart, which - although obviously frozen and bought in - did actually hit the spot, with a crisp texture and sweet without being overbearing flavour. Little victories, eh.