On the shore, she’s all grilled pineapple, white peach sorbet, and white-flower lei—but once the swell comes in, she means business. Dropping in on a giant wave, she conjures gasps from the throng of kettle-corn-crunching onlookers. She’ll never make it, says one. Here comes a wipeout, says another. But she cuts a tangerine-citrus streak through the rich honeydew water, absolutely flying. She’s the image of high-velocity grace, stoic dynamism on a razor sharp board. She rides it all the way in, lingers in the shore’s tropical sweetness, then heads back out. Someone’s got to show these kooks how it’s done.
92 Points, Wine Advocate
