Sushi Betrayal

The time has come for some naming and shaming and a fair bit of moaning.
Picture the scene: Lisle Street, Soho, 11pm. Your friendly author/musician hasn't had dinner. He's hungry, but he isn't panicking. He knows that of all the places in the country to get a bite to eat after hours, Soho is the place to be. He also knows that there is a much celebrated Sushi restaurant on this very street - Tokyo Diner.
Well, I'll spare you the agonizing build-up to a predictable climax: it was disappointing. The maki rolls were tiny (and I do mean tiny), and the choice of fish was salmon or... nothing. Call that a Japanese restaurant?!
I hurriedly paid my £5.40 (for two miniscule Maki rolls, one of which was vegetarian) and ran, yes ran, three doors up the street to...
Kintaro Sushi.
The welcome was warm, the menu varied and exciting. Most importantly, the Maki rolls were fat, juicy and delicious.
I gorged myself. It wasn't a pretty site, but it was fantastic.
So thank you, Kintaro Sushi, for rescuing my evening, and the reputation of Soho Sushi joints.
I'll be back.