Constructor: Matthew Linzer
Relative difficulty: Medium
THEME: MAKE A WISH (17A: What to do when you see ... [see 23-, 37-, 39-, 48- and 60-Across] — things you make a wish on:
Theme answers:
This reminded me a bit of the SMASH HIT puzzle from last week, in that the theme feels upside-down and backwards. That is, we get the revealer first, and then everything thereafter is kind of anticlimactic. Yes, you wish upon this, you wish upon that, shrug. The revealer comes first, and it's got all these ugly cross-reference indications in it, and then you just get a list of "things you might wish on." I get that the idea is to tell a story, or multiple stories—hence the elliptical cluing, with each theme clue being a supposed continuation of the "revealer" clue ("What to do when you see..."). I appreciate the effort to make the puzzle unfold in a semi-unconventional way, but the revealer-first structure here just deadens the puzzle, somehow. I mean, this theme was never going to be anything more than a list, but we don't even get the tiny aha of finding out how all the answers tie together at the end. We get the tiny aha up front, and then we get to discover the things on the list, but somehow the aha is dampened and the pleasure of the solve weakened. I think the narrative structure of the theme has something to do with the fact that you have to force the answers to conform—that is, they need contexts in order to make the "wishing" part make sense. You don't wish upon a dandelion, you wish *before* blowing a dandelion to bits; you don't wish upon an eyelash, you wish upon an eyelash that you have (or someone else has) removed from your face; etc. So perhaps a straightforward revealer wouldn't quite have done the trick. Still, the theme here unfolded in a rather boring, workmanlike way, and the "..." conceit never quite works in a crossword, where soooooo many clues and answers intervene between theme elements. Plus, the theme clue writing leaves something to be desired. There's something clunky and inelegant about it. For instance, "... this streaker in the night" makes it sound like you're wishing on someone running naked through your backyard just before bedtime, and "... this stray bit on your face" makes it sound like you are a really sloppy eater. "Stray bit"??? Bit of what? Such an ugly way to refer to an EYELASH. The whole thing never really comes together, on any level, except at the level of mere list. If this puzzle had come out on ELEVEN ELEVEN, I would've appreciated the wink, and would've liked it a little more, probably.
And then I did the same for the SW corner, where LAS VEGAN ("The vegan!") was bugging the hell out of me. Like, why not just make it the actual city!? The "N" doesn't *do* anything for you, so why would you ... why would you?
I'm not saying either of my corners is great (again, I didn't spend time on them), but they get rid of the conspicuously junky bits. There just didn't seem to be a lot of care given to making the grid smooth throughout. Fill seemed like an afterthought. The worst of it was MNOP and its (to me) baffling clue (35A: Rows #13-#16 in a theater). I came to a dead halt trying to get through that bottleneck of a middle section:
No idea what this was after, thought I had an error. Oh, and the problem was compounded by the arbitrarily three-"O""OOOH," what the hell (25D: "I like that a LOT!"). Fitting that one of the words running straight through this section is WOE, because yes, that is what I'm feeling here (32A: Deep grief). MNOP is the kind of bad fill you just don't see much any more—the random four-letter alphabetical sequence. And "OOOH" is just made-up. "OOOOOOH" seems just as plausible. In fact, I respect "OOOOOOH" more because at least it has the courage to go Super big. This one extra "O," bah. You can see how the constructor got in a pickle from the jump, with themers placed such that you gotta have a four-letter O--H word to lock them together. There just aren't that many four-letter O--H answers to choose from. OATH, ORCH., "OH! OH!" OPAH ... OK, there are a few, but still you're severely limited by the letter placement. So you end up with MNOP / "OOOH!" Oo(o)f.
I had MISTAKE (obviously, fittingly) before MISSTEP (7D: Blunder), but I think that's about it for ... yeah, mistakes. Really appreciated seeing The SOURCE today, as clued (33A: Long-running hip-hop magazine, with "The"). A really important magazine, though I expect it will be new to a significant section of the solving population, and might've caused things to play a little slower than usual today. In honor of The SOURCE, here's a different "HEY (not 'Hi') Y'ALL!" for y'all.
Relative difficulty: Medium
Theme answers:
- SHOOTING STAR (23A: ... this streaker in the night)
- EYELASH (37A: ... this stray bit on your face)
- LADYBUG (39A: ... this insect crawling by)
- ELEVEN ELEVEN (i.e. 11:11) (48A: ... this on a clock)
- DANDELION (60A: ... this just before you blow on the seeds)
Chop suey (/ˈtʃɒpˈsuːi/) is a dish in American Chinese cuisine and other forms of overseas Chinese cuisine, consisting of meat (usually chicken, pork, beef, shrimp or fish) and eggs, cooked quickly with vegetables such as bean sprouts, cabbage, and celery and bound in a starch-thickened sauce. It is typically served with rice but can become the Chinese-American form of chow mein with the substitution of stir-fried noodles for rice.
Chop suey has become a prominent part of American Chinese cuisine, British Chinese cuisine, Filipino cuisine, Canadian Chinese cuisine, German Chinese cuisine, Indian Chinese cuisine, and Polynesian cuisine. In Chinese Indonesian cuisine/Dutch Chinese Indonesian cuisine it is known as cap cai (tjap tjoi) (雜菜, "mixed vegetables") and mainly consists of vegetables.
• • •
The fill in this grid is pretty sour. I love the CHOP SUEY / MARIGOLDS bit, but too often the fill was leaden and strange—and inexplicably so. Why would you put CRAP in your grid if you didn't have to? That's an easy-to-fill little corner, and somehow you've chosen to go with CRAP (!?). Why? It's not holding up anything good. In fact, its cornermates are in large part a bunch of plural abbrs. (ATMS, EXECS, SPECS). CRAP is like ANAL in that OK if you *need* it, use it, but otherwise avoid it because its surface meaning just isn't improving the scenery. I remade the corner in approximately zero minutes (no construction software needed):
"HI, Y'ALL" felt off (30D: "Howdy, folks!"). Really wants to be "HEY, Y'ALL." I mean, there's a country song and a hard ice tea (!) and everything.