Well, you can’t visit Hobart without doing MONA and then having lunch at Faro. And as excited as I was at the prospect of a lunch by chef Vince Trim it was hard to draw myself away from the intense contemplation of The Great Wall of Vagina exhibit, over 151 porcelain vulvas sculpted – painstakingly, I would hazard a guess – from real women. Even harder when the mature woman seated beside me on the velvet viewing couch leaned over to her husband and remarked that it was quite incredible that not a single one of them looked even remotely the same. I’d taken a moment to rest at The Great Wall after the somewhat humiliating experience of being peeled off another wall by two MONA attendants as I discovered that I could not walk the 15 steps along a narrow ledge surrounded by deep black water in a small, silent, dark room to view a real mummy and a digital representation of the original corpse. “It’s REALLY DEEP,” they had whispered as they pushed me through the entrance to the empty room and closed the door behind me.

I guess it’s true that great art is meant to challenge you, huh? The entrance to Faro was also a narrow ledge that seemed to be floating but at least there was plenty of light, no dark, murky water, and the motivation of great food at the end of my sprint. Chef Vince’s Platedropping menu is pure delight, and is designed to complement MONA’s Namedropping exhibition that explores our obsession with fame – the museum’s largest show in eight years which runs until April 2025. My first namedrop is perhaps the ultimate finger food: a ceramic replica of the middle finger of owner David Walsh designed to use as the vessel for my warm Comte, egg yolk and truffle. It’s followed by a tribute to the Country Women’s Association in the form of a carrot and caraway lamington and a mushroom Gaytime – only Aussies of a certain age will appreciate the symbolism and power of this blast from the past – with a hazelnut and cocoa crunch. The iconic Women’s Weekly received a nod via fried, baby school prawns à la culinary diva Margaret Fulton, and Heston Blumenthal’s snail porridge was given a whiff of worship in a parsley and garlic butter mixed-grain risotto that housed confit abalone, wakame marmalade pipis, periwinkles and kohlrabi pickles. The space is spectacular, as are the James Turrell artworks, the bar is one of the best seats in the house, live music is almost always a given and there is a forged Picasso in the ladies’ loo. No, you can’t visit Hobart without doing MONA and Faro and, no, you can’t take Walshies finger home with you.

Bookings recommended for lunch, required for dinner. mona.net.au