"I'll have the ant"

It was a big get-together to celebrate an important occasion, and about ten of us were at a restaurant fancier than I'd ever been in before. Perusing the menu, I decided to be adventurous, so I told the waiter, "I'll have the ant." It was one of the more expensive items on the menu, but what the hell, someone else was buying.

In due course it arrived -- a whole, cooked ant about a foot long, shiny and black and quite bristly, sitting on a plate barely large enough for it. It was as unappetizing a thing as you could imagine, and I was already thinking, "Why did I order this? I should've known I wasn't going to like it." I decided to try and eat it, though, since I was hungry and didn't want to waste such expensive food. I tried the head first, but due to its awkward shape and the thickness of the chitin I simply couldn't cut a piece off, even with a steak knife. I had better luck with the abdomen, which carved just like soft meat, though it was watery yellow and brown inside, totally unappetizing. It tasted even worse -- earwax would have been like chocolate by comparison.

I woke up at that point, but it took a minute or two for the (purely imagined) aftertaste to go away.

This was an actual dream I had a couple of weeks ago. Most of my dreams are equally unpleasant, but this is the first one in years that didn't fade from memory almost immediately. I rather wish it had.