Moonlight Over Oakville: Screaming Eagle The Flight 2016

The first pour gleams like garnet caught between dusk and firelight. A gentle swirl releases a slow unfurling—black cherry and plum laced with cedar, a lift of violet, the faintest curl of sweet tobacco. It is a young wine still in mid-sentence, so give it an hour in a wide-bowled Bordeaux stem to find its cadence. At 16–18 °C, the tannins—fine-grained yet assured—move from firm to silk, and the acidity, bright as early spring water, rises to meet them.

From Napa Valley’s Oakville AVA, The Flight is Screaming Eagle’s Merlot-led counterpoint to the estate’s flagship Cabernet Sauvignon. The 2016 vintage draws on the estate’s meticulously farmed plots, where alluvial soils over gravel and volcanic rock temper vigorous vines, and where warm afternoons yield to marine-cooled nights. Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon play supporting roles, adding dimension and structure, but Merlot’s dark-plum heart beats loudest here. In a year of balanced weather and even ripening, the fruit reached perfect physiological maturity without losing freshness—a rare alignment of sun, soil, and season.

The Wine’s Song

In the glass, it shows a clarity and depth that speak of precision in both vineyard and cellar. The nose layers ripe black plum and blueberry with graphite, cocoa nib, and a faint echo of dried rose. On the palate, it moves with a confident arc—supple entry, mid-palate breadth, then a tightening toward a long, mineral-tinged close. Tannins are polished but not shy; acidity threads through like a bright seam, promising a long life ahead. French oak lends quiet seasoning—subtle spice, a touch of vanilla—without muting the fruit’s voice. In 2016, the balance tilts toward elegance over sheer power, making The Flight as conversant with food as it is compelling on its own.

Plum, Herb, and Hearthfire

The Flight’s tannin profile finds its perfect foil in roasted lamb shoulder, the fat and collagen melting into meat that falls into strands at a fork’s nudge. The lamb’s rosemary and thyme echo the wine’s own herbal whisper, while the char from a wood oven draws out the darker fruit notes. A second classic: duck breast with crisped skin, its richness lifted by a reduction of blackcurrant and balsamic. Here, the acidity works like a master conductor, keeping opulence in tempo.

Flame-Touched Wanderings

Because The Flight’s structure is generous yet composed, it can embrace dishes beyond the familiar Bordeaux-variety set. Consider cocoa-rubbed venison loin, seared swiftly and served rare. The game’s lean intensity locks hands with the wine’s concentration, while cocoa dust bridges to the bitter-chocolate edge in the finish. Or take braised short ribs with star anise and soy—carefully salted to avoid overwhelming the tannins—where the slow-cooked depth meets the wine’s bass notes, and the spice lifts its aromatic register.

Earth’s Quiet Revelry

Merlot’s affinity for umami makes The Flight a natural with wild mushroom ragù over pappardelle. The silk of the pasta and the earthy chorus of porcini and chanterelle meet the wine halfway, each amplifying the other’s savor. A second path: truffle-infused potato gratin, its creamy strata balancing tannin while truffle oil teases out the wine’s more elusive floral-earth accents.

Gifts in the Margins

Sometimes it is the side, not the centerpiece, that perfects the pairing. Imagine a celery root purée finished with browned butter, its nutty sweetness underlining the Merlot’s plush mid-palate. Or pommes Anna, each potato slice kissed by butter until crisp at the edges—the sort of humble elegance that makes the wine’s freshness all the more striking.

In the Voice of the Vine

I have walked both sun-drenched vineyard rows and shadowed underworld halls. The vine knows this rhythm: green leaf to gold, blossom to berry, bloom to rest. In The Flight 2016, I hear that same cycle—a season’s joy held in suspension, waiting for you to break the seal.

The Long Breath of Time

This is a wine vivid now but destined to deepen by 2030–2038, when its fruit will soften into leather, spice, and earth, and its voice will lower to a whisper you must lean in to hear. Honour it with patience: a gentle decant, the right glass, a table where food and conversation can stretch into night. Like the turning of the seasons, such moments come only if we make room for them.