As is often the case, the choice on a Saturday night in Soho is dictated by what's available rather than what you fancy...restaurants that is.
Having previously tried on three separate occasions to pass through the entrance of Bodean's, this time I gave up on approach. The streets surrounding that honey-trap for pork lovers should surely be filled with many more options for those disenchanted by the queue or whose bellies have taken control. Instead, you find the always deserted Yo!Sushi and - due to it's almost night-black exterior - walk past Copita.
Chivalrous and pork platter are not words which often go together.
We drank Mahou (4.8%).