A GOURMET is just a glutton with brains.
Good gracious, what an appalling quote to regurgitate - if you will pardon the expression - even as Festivale's tucker stalls are pitched in Launceston's City Park for this weekend's event.
Flaunting the best bib-and-tucker, (well, cleanest T-shirt anyway), your correspondent will certainly be part of the milling throng of Tasmanian and mainland masticators at Launceston's ultimate annual foodfest.
Even as foodies stare at each other to see just who qualifies for US pundit Philip W. Haberman's brilliant quote, above, and while it is in no sense related to Lonnie's ability to hold this amazing annual gustatory experience.
Or, granted, Hobart's major hash bash, Taste of Tasmania, held last month.
There we are then, both ends of this sceptred isle covered with tucker like a freshly braised local salmon smothered in a delectable hollandaise sauce.
Accompanied by an acceptable pinot noir, of course.
And yet, as anyone will tell you who has ever wielded the plastic fork over a paper plateful of recalcitrant raspberries and cream while fending off the thrusting elbows of other outdoor tucker shifters, there is one big difference between Hobart's concrete-based waterfront experience and Launceston's event held in a green and pleasant oak tree-shaded recreation area.
Same stallholders at both events (check), pretty much the same produce (check) - yes folks, you guessed it, it's all about getting through the gates.
In Hobart, as anyone keen to slurp up tempura mushrooms and guzzle Tassie-produced cider will attest, it's hands-in-pockets and saunter on whistling through the gates, free as a bird.
This weekend's Lonnie feeding frenzy is not only about filling the tummy but also the less-appetising business of emptying the wallet.
Just for the right to park the carcass in a tree's shade and swig wine samples from a plastic flute (``extra four bucks for the `glass' cobber, thanks very much'').
Festivale organisers' rock solid rationale for palming an entry fee is that, unlike Hobart, the eating is backed up with entertainment.
If music be the food of love, as the Bard would have said, that will set you back 20 bucks, mate.
And even if various citizens have put forward the view that it is their legal right to walk through a public park provided one takes no part in Festivale, they may subsequently be taken aside by suspicious gatekeepers demanding dosh owing to unlicked fairy floss around the trespasser's gob.
So how do Hobartians get away with this community freebie?
Well, partly it's to do with pulling the sort of rank and privilege they enjoy as citizens of this state's capital city.
Hobartians have grown up with this attitude.
Consider the almighty kerfuffle over Hobartians being forced to pay for water when Southern Water began a meter rollout last April - as we have done forever.
The Taste of Tasmania, underwritten by Hobart City Council, has become a battleground. (Hmm, let's see, 250,000 attending TofT, two bucks a head ``donation'', phew, that's half a million smackaroos).
Money for jam, and certainly the donut that surrounds it.
Yet it's a suggestion that raises the ire of hidebound Hobart emailers along the lines of ``rather not go if I have to pay anything''.
A curious attitude to us folk who are more used to handing over our hard-earned dough to support local events.
Be proud, it's helped make this regional city a nationally recognised venue for gourmandisers, rather than plain old-fashioned gluttons.
See you at Festivale, then, soon after this athletic correspondent has jumped the two-metre iron fence (only kidding, booth attendants).
In the meantime, be aware of yet another quote, this one from George Nathan: ``I only drink to make other people seem more interesting.''
Hmm, what could George have meant by that?
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