Chester White is a breed of white pig prone to burning in the sun because of its pallor. It's also the name of a wine bar and restaurant - and entirely fitting, once you see the menu.

The headline act is the platter centred on your choice of a salumi, speck, culatello (“a bit of butt”, says the menu) and others, while a prawn scallop ceviche with cured trout scales the other end of cured curiosities. Sides of kale chips, jacket potatoes, cheeses and pickles make for robust and very shareable fare.

But no meal is complete without an order of Chester White's theatrical hit, the deconstructed carbonara. It arrives at the table in its strainer, where the waitstaff whisk it together with egg and cheese. It's a novelty that never seems to wear off.

Set on the street at the bottom of a terrace, the space could be traversed in a couple of long strides, but it fits a few more people than you’d expect. With the requisite white tiled splashback and some seriously retro stools the diner bar evokes a real '50s nostalgia; a length of seats line the patio and accommodates a bustle of people. A concise wine list and a pair of beers offer a liquid complement to all the smoky, ashy flavours. Limitation, it seems, works in Chester White’s favour.