the story
The First Pour
Folks often ask me, "how, exactly, did it start?"
I was once an ambitious restaurant line cook, who dreamed of becoming a chef, traveling the globe, and bringing back parts of my story and journey back with me to my place. I had a dream of sharing the best of my life's experiences with others. If I wanted to excel, then I would need to work for ambitious chefs who had their own stories to tell; a tale as old as time.
One night, a difficult chef I worked for railed against his team over a disappointing night of sales. He claimed, rightly or wrongly, that even his line cooks would do a better job of selling the wines than the servers, and proceeded to grab a random bottle of wine off of the shelf and handed it to me. It was to me an obscure variety from a producer I'd never heard of, and the assignment was clear: present the wine to the team tomorrow and sell us this wine. Not wanting to catch hell, I made an effort to learn everything I could about that bottle, and anxiously poured it for my colleagues the next day!
The praise that followed for my presentation that day, for better or for worse, inspired me to reconsider my future as a line cook. I began to study wine first as a hobby and then with a clear intent to become a sommelier. I prepared myself and began to climb the lower ranks through the Court of Master Sommeliers. I enjoyed talking about wine, tasting it, analyzing it for its qualities, and the social benefits of sharing a bottle of wine with your friends and loved ones after a long day at work.
A voice inside me, perhaps the one who liked to cook and create, insisted that we were not yet done learning.
An Unexpected Exchange
In the summer of 2017, I was attending a family wedding.
The wedding took place just a few weeks before my Sommelier's exams. A distant relative found me and asked if I was the apparent "wine-lover" in the family. I said yes.
He asked me an unexpected question: have you ever heard of a grape called Albariño?
What followed could hardly be believed - he told me a story about my great-grandfather, who'd kept an Albariño vine alive as some sort of pet ornamental in the town of Isla Verde, Puerto Rico. This man, a contemporary of my great-grandfather, insisted that Albariño was in my blood.
I never knew my great-grandfather. This story inspired me to learn more about the variety in the hopes that it could bring me closer to a relative long gone. I began to dream, quietly and to myself, about making Albariño wine.
Albariño grows in the rainy Atlantic Northwest of Iberia, on either side of the river Miño that divides northern Portugal from Galicia, Spain. To do this, I would need to find a rainy place with viticultural potential.
An Apprentice
The following year, I visited the Willamette Valley for the first time. Months later, I uprooted my life and came here seeking a new lease on life. I secured my first job at a winery in March of 2019.
I worked first in sales and hospitality, leaning on my existing experience. When COVID came, an opportunity arrived to work in the winery's bottling operation, and this led to an opportunity to play a part in their production team as a first-year intern in 2021.
The years went by, and I learned the motions by watching my mentors work. I learned that another former intern of theirs had gone on to become the winemaker at a prestigious address in Rías Baixas, and I sought him out.
Eventually, after months of emails, I worked as his assistant winemaker for the harvest season, gaining not only invaluable experience first-hand with Albariño in its native land but learning the relationships between the things we observe in the wine and the actions that we take to shape them as winemakers.
Today I make wines with immense gratitude to these mentors who shaped me. I am humbled to know them.
A Scare & A Vineyard
A word on silver linings.
Just months before my winemaking internship in Spain, I suffered an accident.
Having fallen off of a ladder, several bones in my back were fractured and I found myself on bedrest. During this time, a number of discussions took place with my family with regards to the future. Some relatives wanted to invest in real estate, and I wanted to pursue my future in winemaking, so we found a bit of common ground over the subject of a vineyard. While a purchase was not practical or doable at that time, this led to the first time I would visit "the vineyard."
This place was planted in 1988, the year I was born. When I first saw it, I was in a fresh back brace that was meant to support my body during my recovery. I saw this vineyard, recently abandoned and in a sad state, and felt that we could undergo a sort of rehabilitation together. I felt that with care, we could grow some quality grapes.
After all, quality wines come from quality vines.
The months would go by, I would complete my physical recovery and participate in my dream harvest in Spain. When I came home, it was now time to begin working on the vineyard's recovery, too. A lease agreement was made, and I set to work.
I began working this vineyard with my own two hands over the course of 2024, while keeping a day job in another producer's cellar.
I was able to count on external help from time to time, but the daily practice & grind in the vineyard taught me that viticulture is not for the faint of heart. I learned things the hard way, over and over again, and quickly realized how underprepared I was for the task.
Our Debut Vintage
A handshake deal was struck to sell the bulk of the fruit, and I continued to work on these vines under the guise that they go to our buyer.
I would get through the long work days in the field by wondering if there would be any leftover grapes for me to work with. Maybe I could make a barrel or two of wine in my garage and learn the craft at my own pace.
If I did - how would I make this wine?
As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for!
My buyer pulled out suddenly and with no explanation as the harvest approached, and I found myself suddenly needing to vinify quite a bit more than one barrel or two in order to salvage any of the sunk costs of this vineyard rehabilitation experiment.
Those little daydreams were suddenly going to come in very handy.
A friend (in fact, a former intern of mine) was visiting from France that summer.
He had introduced me to a sympathetic winemaker who'd offered me a little space in his place where I could make my wines as long as I was willing to do the work.
This is the story of vintage 2024, and this is how our first vintage came to be.
A Year of Firsts
2025 would represent a year of transition which leads to Medina as we see it today.
I extended my stay at the vineyard, but limited it to my favorite 24 rows this time, which I'd dubbed the Bellpine Ridge block for its soil composition. The vineyard changed owners in '25, and I went in a different direction after that.
We began purchasing small amounts of grapes from vineyards we believe have the potential to be sought-after gems. At the forefront of every conversation, we discussed our priorities in viticulture and found partners whose values aligned with ours.
In 2025, we were able to source enough Albariño grapes from around the north Willamette Valley to craft our debut vintage with this variety. This wine, which has a special limited-release label for the debut vintage, quotes Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" on the back label, reminding us to ask: what are men to rocks and mountains?
Our 2024 Pinot noirs were released in the fall of 2025 to warm reviews and critical acclaim from mentors, strangers, publishers, and the like.
This encouragement and support would give us comfort during the following months, which would be marked with personal and family difficulties.
It also, crucially, gave us reason to believe in the project.
A Way Forward
Distinctive Pinot Noir remains a priority for us, now more than ever. To that end, we are excited to be introducing Chardonnay to our offerings, and think there's something very special going on in our part of the world with this variety, too.
In a world where Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from anonymous "anywhere" are abundant, we are committed to only working with vines, growers, and terroirs that we feel have something unique to add to the conversation.
We tightened production in 2026 to remain as focused as possible while expecting to welcome our first-born to our family in 2027. You may notice the wine is not named for "César Medina," as I intend to leave this dream in the hands of my children, and we truly hope that Medina gives them a means of living and something to be proud of.
It is for that next generation that we work so hard.
Our story is only just beginning. I speak for all of us at Medina when I say I hope you'll join us on this journey as we explore the unbelievable potential of this wild, wonderful Willamette Valley we are blessed to call home.
Gracias, siempre. Bendiciones!
-César Medina Maldonado
September 2026