Shadows and Sunlight on Rutherford Dust: Scarecrow Cabernet Sauvignon 2018

The first pour is a quiet unveiling, garnet edged with indigo, its surface catching light like a still pool at dusk. I, Geshtinanna, know this ritual well: wine is both memory and prophecy, the vessel of soil and season. The scent rises slowly, graphite and violet laced with cassis, a whisper of cedar carried on Rutherford’s famed dust. At 16–18 °C it opens with poise, but patience is a companion here: an hour in a broad-bowled Bordeaux glass softens the tannin—the gentle, drying grip on the cheeks—and lets the wine unfurl its layered voice. The 2018 vintage, still youthful, rewards a contemplative decant; it is vivid now but holds promise for decades, deepening toward 2030–2045.

Where the Old Vines Whisper

This wine’s story begins in Napa Valley’s Rutherford AVA, where Scarecrow Cabernet Sauvignon is drawn from the historic J.J. Cohn Estate, a vineyard rooted in vines first planted in the 1940s. I think of these gnarled trunks as scribes of time, recording each season’s sun and rain into the grape’s skin. The grape is Cabernet Sauvignon, pure and unblended, grown on gravelly alluvial soils that hold heat by day and release it by night. Organic farming honors the land’s rhythm, while the winemaking remains faithful to fruit and terroir: French oak lends polish, but it is the vineyard’s old-vine voice that carries through.

The Season of Balance and Shadow

The 2018 vintage in Napa was generous yet balanced: a long, even growing season without the extremes of heat that can tip wines into excess. In the glass, Scarecrow 2018 is statuesque—blackcurrant and blackberry layered with violets, tobacco leaf, and warm earth. Its tannins are fine-grained, woven like the reeds I once saw in dream-visions, carrying the wine across the palate with both grip and glide. Acidity gives it lift, a freshness that keeps richness from sinking heavy. The finish lingers, slow and confident, trailing dark fruit and minerality like the last echo of a bell rung in a temple of stone.

Char and Herb Beneath the Stars

When mortals roast lamb over flame, I taste echoes of my brother Dumuzi’s sacrificial feasts, where fat and fire rose to the gods. The marbled richness of lamb softens the wine’s grip, while rosemary and thyme answer the Cabernet’s green, herbal undertones. Charred beef, seared crust over crimson center, draws out cassis and graphite, the dialogue between fire and fruit. Here the structure of the wine finds its counterweight: protein and fat binding tannin, leaving the mouth cleansed for the next hymn of flavor.

Across the Firepits of the World

I have wandered far in stories, across continents where other fires burn. The wine’s bright acidity lets it stand with dishes beyond its homeland: Korean galbi, ribs glazed in soy and garlic, resonate with oak spice; venison touched by juniper echoes its dark fruit and cedar. As when I cross between realms of life and shadow, the wine carries its identity across borders, its balance allowing it to harmonize with distant traditions.

Roots and Smoke for the Gentle Table

I am the goddess of the vine, but also the scribe of the underworld, and I know that nourishment often lies in humble roots. A wild-mushroom ragout, earthy and buttered, speaks in the same tongue as the Cabernet’s forest-floor notes. Aubergine roasted until its skin chars and flesh turns silky sweet offers smoke and softness to mirror the wine’s oak-spiced richness. These pairings show that the story of the vine does not demand flesh; earth itself can sing with it.

Golden Layers, Silken Echoes

Even the supporting dishes have their poetry. Pommes Anna, potatoes layered like cuneiform tablets I once inscribed, gilded with butter, answer the tannins with fat and crunch. Creamy polenta, stirred until its voice turns velvety, welcomes both jus and wine, softening the firm backbone. These are not mere accompaniments—they are the chorus that carries the song to its full refrain.

A Salted Farewell

Scarecrow 2018, dry and firm, will not bend to dessert’s sugar. Instead, let the closing ritual be cheese: aged Comté or clothbound Cheddar. Their salt and fat are a last, perfect offering—tannin softened, acidity sharpened, fruit resurgent. It is a farewell in harmony, not in conflict, a libation to close the circle.

The Patience of the Vine

I, Geshtinanna, descend each season into the earth and rise again with spring, guardian of vines and dreams. This wine, too, lives by that rhythm: expressive now, but destined to reveal greater depths through patient cellaring. Pour it with reverence, serve it with foods that honor its shape, and it will reward you with grace. Like the vine itself, Scarecrow 2018 dwells between shadow and sunlight—ever rooted in the soil, ever reaching toward the sky.