Rodina Wine Company — 2025 Bedrock Vineyard Zinfandel

One vineyard. One wine. Made once, without additions.

Rodina is a family project, not a winery in the usual sense. We make a single wine, in vanishingly small quantity, from fruit we choose ourselves.

The word is Russian — rodina, homeland. It is what you carry with you when you live between places, and what you plant when you decide to stay. And it hides a second reading, the true one: Ro, for Roman, and Dina, entire. A homeland can be a person.

The 2025 was grown at Bedrock Vineyard on the Sonoma Valley floor, among vines planted in 1888. It was raised quietly in French oak for a full year, topped only with its own wine, and goes to bottle with nothing added and nothing taken away that the wine did not ask for. In the glass: forest floor, black and blue fruit, fine resolving tannin — nothing jammy, nothing pruney. Zinfandel with the signature of a Pinot Noir winemaker.

We publish the chemistry because we have nothing to hide.

Every serious cellar keeps a record. This is ours — the laboratory analysis of the 2025 in barrel, drawn August 28, 2026, ten weeks before bottling. The numbers describe a wine that is fully dry, finished with malolactic conversion long complete, and carrying the natural concentration of dry-farmed, century-old vines.

Alcohol

15.6% by vol.

3.90

Titratable acidity

5.07g/L

Volatile acidity

0.52g/L

Residual sugar

0.5g/L — dry

Malic acid

0.11g/L — ML complete

Lactic acid

1.32g/L

Sulfur dioxide

25free / 67 total ppm

Reading the record. Residual sugar below 1 g/L means the wine is truly dry — the richness on the palate is fruit and alcohol, not sweetness. Malic acid near zero with lactic present confirms a complete, natural malolactic conversion. The modest sulfur numbers reflect the house philosophy: protection during élevage, restraint at every other moment.

Bedrock, planted 1888.

Bedrock Vineyard is one of California's great heritage sites — first planted in 1854, replanted after phylloxera in 1888, and farmed today by the Peterson family. Its old-vine Zinfandel grows interplanted with a living archive of nineteenth-century varieties on the Sonoma Valley floor.

Vines of this age yield almost nothing, and what they give is concentrated, savory, and structurally complete — wines that need no correction. Our 2025 comes entirely from this site: 2.959 tons of fruit, picked in a single pass.

Little done, on purpose.

FermentationNo additions during ferment. The wine was allowed to become itself.

ÉlevageNeutral French oak in a Sonoma cellar, topped only from the same wine, for a full year.

PatienceAn early bottling date was set aside when the wine asked for more time. It received it.

BottlingSterile-filtered for stability, otherwise untouched. Nothing fined, nothing corrected.

HonestyThe alcohol on the label is the alcohol in the bottle. The analysis above is the wine you will drink.

A family project, in the exact sense.

Roman GoronokRoman has spent his career as a dealer in the rarest stringed instruments — Cremonese objects whose worth is measured in centuries of care. A former concert violinist, trained in Cleveland and Cologne, he applies the same conviction to wine: the old thing, honestly kept, needs no improvement.

Dina GoronokThe decision to bottle without additions was made at the family table, by Roman and Dina together. The label, drawn in the Constructivist tradition, carries her eye.

Jérôme ChéryThe 2025 was made by Jérôme Chéry, a French winemaker whose first instinct is restraint — the rare hand that shapes Zinfandel the way Burgundians shape Pinot Noir, and who counseled waiting when the wine asked for more time.