There are many unspoken rules at a Marco Pierre White establishment, but “do not use the chemical toilets between 9pm and 10pm” must be a new one. As a diner at Hell’s Kitchen, ITV1’s celebrity chef series, you are reminded that while you may be served a meal, your role is strictly to provide footage fodder. Cameras hover optimistically over our table as we discuss the merits of choosing Abigail Clancy to garnish the foie gras and duck egg. Cruelly, they wheel away as producers signal that Jayne Middlemiss’s party has entered the room. Our table host is ticked off for placing her jacket over the back of her chair.

Our starters are provided courtesy of the red-clad girls team. The caviar wins over scallops. I award my chefs 8 out of 10 – marks which will be used to dispatch a kitchen weakling. Our table position allows us to gaze down on the “celebrities” who are expected to sing for their supper. George Galloway glowers as Carol Thatcher bounds towards Marco’s fortress, while anxious security guards linger. The salmon is a little rubbery but the constantly-filled wine glasses boost the bonhomie. Sadly, the converted East London television studio has been invaded by midges. Waiter, waiter, there really is a fly in my drink. But the cameras have already moved on.

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