A recent trip to a part of the world where Hillary Clinton is regarded as a saviour and “a true missionary” was an eye-opener in many a sense.

The Finger Lakes in central New York state are a bucolic playground of boats, vines, rolling hills and a landscape that looks little changed since the late 18th century when the colonisers finally managed to wrest this pretty region from the native Iroquois. Two things strike the visitor interested in wine: first, the exceptional quality of the Rieslings made there (sweet and, especially, dry), and second, how little they seem to be appreciated, or even known, in New York City. Although the Finger Lakes are little more than a three hour drive from Manhattan, wine producers there seem almost fatally daunted by the prospect of trying to persuade New York’s sommeliers, regarded as impossibly sophisticated by their exposure to the finest wines of the world, of the charms of their wines.