“My mind went to the idea that life is a matter of contrasts. The contrast was not in imagery or tortured faux jokes, but in the consumption of a sparkling wine that was not cheap or sticky but wondrous,” writes wine columnist RICHARD CALVER. 

Oh dear, Donald Trump recently tried to show he had a sense of humour. 

In a recent speech Trump tried to correlate the fate of incoming migrants with a joke about Hannibal Lecter. 

It was illogical and weird, the joke treating a fictional super-nasty character as if real, the bizarre implication that migrants should be consumed as if meat (thank goodness he didn’t reference chianti, as was the case of the accompanying wine mentioned in the film).

“The late, great Hannibal Lecter is a wonderful man,” Trump said, referencing the 1991 film Silence of the Lambs. “He oftentimes would have a friend for dinner.”

“But Hannibal Lecter. Congratulations, the late, great Hannibal Lecter. We have people that are being released into our country that we don’t want in our country.”

After an initial surge of anger, my mind went to the idea that life is a matter of contrasts. The contrast was not in imagery or tortured faux jokes, but in the consumption of a sparkling wine that was not cheap or sticky but wondrous. 

After the despondency that following politics can generate, the wine of which I speak was a real treat. 

A friend and her husband were celebrating the end of a career with one of Canberra’s government instrumentalities. The small celebration was held at Symposium at the ANU, a comparatively upmarket venue that serves a good array of wines and some delicious food. 

I was asked to select a wine. Instead of celebratory champagne, I saw that in the wine fridge was a non-vintage Ambal Cremant de Bourgogne Blanc. 

It was $60 yet sells at retail for around $42, so not a huge mark-up as you would expect in a restaurant (mark ups of 300 per cent occur). 

The champagnes were more expensive and the crémant seemed a good alternative, something apparently not available in the US presidential race.

Obviously, the wine is a fizz from Burgundy. The rules that attend the appellation are, like the rules that govern the production of champagne, strict. 

For example, grapes must be picked by hand into small boxes to prevent crushing and oxidation and importantly for the taste, second fermentation must take place in a bottle and be for a minimum of nine months before disgorgement. 

This gives contact with the lees that provides the biscuity, brioche flavours that were evident on the night of celebration and which delivered good mouth feel and a long clean finish. Small bead and good colour added to the celebratory experience. 

Of course we talked politics. Good wine promotes conversation. One of those points was my dismay that the most powerful role on the planet, president of the United States of America, appears to be a contest between a man who is approaching senility and another who appears to be acting as if insane. Pass the bottle. 

Today I was at a bookstore. As I was browsing an assistant offered to help me.

I asked, “Do you have a copy of Donald Trump’s book on his U.S. Immigration Policy regarding Muslims and illegal Mexicans?”

The assistant, first looked dismayed then angrily pointed me to the door saying, “Get out, get out and stay out!”

I said, “Yes! That’s the one. Do you have it in paperback?”