THE COW

The Cow could well be the perfect pub. If your American penpal came to visit and wanted to go to a real pub, this would be where to take them. If a Richard Curtis movie needed a pub location, this would be just the ticket.

Small, snug, and wood-panelled, the Cow doesn’t have any of the drawbacks of too-authentic p ubs, like stinky carpets, ashen-faced regulars, surly barstaff and greasy food. This is how all pubs should be in an ideal world.(You know, if you died and went to pub heaven.) A place where drinks that need ice are served with lots of it, not a half-melted cube and a sad little slice of lemon.

The flavour of the place is loosely Irish (good Guinness, on draft), and it feels like a proper local, turbo-charged with charisma. It’s owned by Tom Conran, son of the famous Terence (other strings to his bow include the nearby burger bar Lucky 7, perfect Mexican Crazy Homies, and superior deli Tom’s).

Specialities here include Guinness, Cuban cigars and seafood, especially oysters (we told you this was pub heaven). Try a pint of prawns, or a seafood platter with fabulous fines de claires (green oysters). You can also eat smashing versions of stalwart pub classics like sausages and mash or fish stew at tables towards the back of the pub. Upstairs there are more formal eats in a charming 1940s-style, white-tablecloth-covered dining room

The Cow’s diminutive size means that it is invariably busy. In summer the crowds outside almost intermingle with the drinkers spilling out from the Westbourne across the road. With this being Notting Hill, the locals are likely to be supermodels, journalists, musos, and bankers (drowning their sorrows).