I truthfully feel that although I do often have a great deal to say of late

I truthfully feel that although I do often have a great deal to say, of late I have found it increasingly difficult to find the right way to say it. This week’s article is to be my last for this highly respected Independent organ. We’d managed to eat our way from A to Z, from ants to zebra, and somehow, we’d survived.Empire, 38 Lambs Conduit Street, London WC1 (020-7404 6835).. We shared the dining room with two couples, presumably trying to inject that certain spice into their relationship that only eating insects can do Ultimately, though, the experience left us quietly exultant. It’s hard to know who Empire is for, apart from as a particularly cruel venue for a reunion dinner for Survivor contestants. “I might buy some of this when they have the closing-down sale,” whispered Sheree.With a bottle of Verdiccio and a bottle of Tiger beer (mercifully containing no actual tiger) the bill came to £40 a head before service.

“Crunchy” doesn’t do justice to the texture of this item – it was like eating toe-nail parings dipped in caramel, though toe-nail pairings may well have broken down more quickly into something you could swallow.On the plus side, Empire’s dining room is pleasant, in a Moorish sort of way (more than can be said about the food), and the food is presented very prettily in delicate Japanese bowls. But then, we were already eating ants voluntarily, so what were we going to complain about?While my fellow competitors reacquainted themselves with home comforts, in the form of coffee and After Eights, I steeled myself for the final challenge – chocolate-covered scorpion, dusted with 24-carat gold leaf. As a small green insect made its way across Tony’s plate, we knew we’d reached the end of Empire. It was also the first pesto I’ve encountered which featured a genuine pest. But the lamb was so fiercely spiced, it might just as well have been zebra, and the pesto rice was horrid. No way had it been flash-grilled – it was chewily dense and compacted, like overcooked steak, and was plonked in a sweet, red sludge billed as “tomato masala”.Tony was smug about what he thought was a safe choice, lamb with pesto rice. As a delicacy, they have no obvious value, but as a publicity gimmick, they are unsurpassable.From the exotic menu, my flash-grilled zebra (‘fraid so) had obviously led a long, hard life before finding its way into Empire’s freezer.

(If she’d been a Survivor contestant, the audience would have earmarked her for early elimination.) I sampled them and found them desiccated and rustly, like Chinese seaweed. Sheree started whimpering: “I can’t eat ants, I can’t eat ants,” before forcing down a pinchful and groaning. The insects, an edible variety imported from Australia, were served on the side, in a glass petri-dish, and looked like the deposit you find down the back of the sofa, but with legs. He had a nice line in feigned insouciance about the more unconventional ingredients, greeting our request for a side-order of rice with a casual: “What kind of rice? Jasmine or ant?”It had to be ant, of course. And sure enough, we were soon wishing like mad – wishing we’d gone somewhere else.Sheree’s monkfish was supposed to come with foie gras and ginger sauce; in fact it had coconut sauce identical to that served with her scallops, though our waiter stubbornly tried to pretend otherwise. But the risotto itself, a conventional affair involving wild mushrooms, had been cooked competently enough to raise expectations, particularly as the kebabs and scallops were also serviceable dishes.But then we moved on to our main courses.