The Seacow - East Dulwich

So you've had an awesome sandwich for lunch and now, five hours later you’re in the market for some fish and chips. The Seacow on Lordship Lane certyainly looks the part with it’s iced display showcasing such an array of fish as to make a Cornish trawler-man jealous, but, when we arrived, at 6:30pm of a Saturday night, the place was empty. Totally empty, and I mean utterly, completely, catastrophically empty. Even the hot lamps were… say it with me now… empty.

Not to let something like that dismay us, we blundered on in the hope that we may discover something that the rest of the population of East Dulwich may be missing. All 13,000 of them. Once we had ordered our starters (a pint of prawns and salt and pepper calamari) I can tell you we were certainly missing something. When ordering a ‘pint of prawns’ perhaps I’m being picky but I do have a certain expectation. I would like to receive, for example, oh I don’t know… a pint of bleedin’ prawns?!

Now I’m not sure about you, but I’m fairly good at recognising a pint when I see one, and I can assure you that that ain’t it. I asked our waiter who told me that I had ordered the starter. Yes, I pointed out, I agree. And the starter was called, forgive me if I got this wrong; a pint of prawns. I decided to tweet them this offending picture later on in the evening to quell my smouldering resentment. The prawns themselves were at least tasty if overcooked and freezer-to-fridge cold while the calamari was well executed with a crispy outer and soft inner but prepared in house? Not a chance.

The fish and chips themselves were pleasant with our haddock being delivered with a crispy coating that while it was tasty, thin and very, very crispy, it lost out on something. In fact, the blurb about The Seacow is that it models itself on the Australian fish bars of, well, Australia presumably, but doesn't that miss the whole point of this amazing British traditional dish? As for the fish, I thought it was overdone, Mrs P thought it was cooked well so we’ll agree to split the difference and call it ‘good’. But with good fish the fear is always for a distinctly mediocre chip and I’m afraid none come more mediocre that The Seacow. A chip is a chip unless you can make it otherwise, and if you are looking for somewhere to buy perfectly average, non-descript sliced carbohydrate sticks? The Seacow has got you covered.

In short, I’m sure that The Seacow will have many dedicated followers, fans and general well wishers. However, they certainly weren't in attendance on a Saturday night in August when the care and attention lavished upon our dinner was as painfully abscent as my bloody pint of bloody prawns.