Jessie and I are both big fans of Pasture, and a mid-afternoon directorial meeting feels like a good enough excuse to try to go again. We are foiled by their lack of availability, but I’ve been meaning to try The Cow And Sow, so after some actually quite productive work, we retire for a late lunch. Nothing is particularly bad about it. The problem is, I think, that at every turn, our overriding thoughts were “it’s just not as good as Pasture”. The starters run the whole gammut: on one end, the ox cheek and cheddar croquette, served with a roquito pepper ketchup, is actually very good. On the other end, the calamari was immensely disappointing, the limp, unflavoured rubber you’d expect to find in chain restaurants across the land. The burnt ends with onion ketchup are mercifully closer to the former end of the scale. My filet steak does broadly hold up, and I can’t say I’m expert enough to be able to accurately disclaim the differences, but I do think Pasture is better. Dessert is underwhelming and my vaguely chocolate martini has split. So too do we shortly after that, knowing that in future, the better course of action is to prepare better and go to the place we want to go.