Constructor: Hoang-Kim Vu
Relative difficulty: Medium
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THEME: none
Word of the Day: FRAPPÉS (36D: Ballet exercises done at a barre) —
A textbook Saturday, by which I mean something close to a perfect Saturday. Felt very hard, and yet after the typical early flailing, once I got a toehold, I kept making steady progress and never got what you'd call Stuck -stuck. Even places that initially felt intractable (once again, for me, the NW) eventually opened up once I was able to give them a proper shove, coming at them from a different angle. That's one of the other things that's nice about this grid—you have four discrete corners, but you can come at them all from two different directions, so while you may get slowed down, you're never likely to feel cornered. But being appropriately difficult is not the primary thing that makes this puzzle great. As always, it's the quality of the fill that matters most. I think my standards are higher for Fridays than for Saturdays—what I want out of Fridays are scads of colorful marquee answers whooshing across the grid, whereas what I want out of Saturdays is a fight. A fun, fair fight, but a fight. So I'm always happy when Saturdays are not just hard, but bring some brightness and originality in the fill as well. There's not a ton of room for sparkle in those banks of 7s in the NE or SW, but out of those corners come DEATH SPIRAL and PLANT SITTER, two gorgeous, fresh answers. MISO PASTE (1A: Fermented mixture in Japanese cooking) and SPOON REST (17A: Stovetop convenience) also make a gorgeous pair in the NW, with the devilish / hard-to-parse ENTR'ACTES in between (15A: Some theatrical transitions)—love when old crosswordese gets dressed up in its full-phrase regalia. You used to see ENTR' as a standalone entry back in the day, kids; the good old days weren't always good ... oh, damn, looks like we *still* see ENTR' from time to time, though things aren't nearly as bad as they were:
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Explainers:
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter and Facebook]
Relative difficulty: Medium
Word of the Day: FRAPPÉS (36D: Ballet exercises done at a barre) —
Literally, struck beating. From the sur la cou-de-pied position (working foot cupped around the ankle of the supporting foot), thrust the working foot forcefully outward to an extended position, a few inches above the floor, devant (in front), à la seconde (to the second position) or derriere (in back), with the ball of the foot brushing on the floor as it moves outward. (Fundamentals of Ballet, Dance 10AB, Professor Sheree King, Long Beach City College)
• • •
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| ["... come on, pretty mama"] |
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| [from xwordinfo ... oof, poor 2005 (eight ENTR's!)] |
Then you've got your HOT DATE with your SWEET PEA(S) at the TROPICANA down there in the SE. It's always nice when the puzzle makes your work but makes you feel like the work was worthwhile. I got frustrated a bunch, but I never groaned or eyerolled. I honestly can't ask much more from a Saturday. This is Hoang-Kim Vu's third puzzle of the year. His January 13 themeless was a Puzzle of the Month for me. Wouldn't be surprised if this puzzle finds itself in the same category for June.
The trick with these toughies is getting started. I tend to work short stuff first, so I had ORO and ACRE ... but then not a lot else. Plus I doubted ORO (since there was no Spanish *language* indication in the clue) (4D: What the Royal Crown of Spain is plated with). Oh, I knew ESTHER and guessed MEET, but still, I couldn't gather enough short answers together to get things really moving, so I jumped to the NE where I tried STAT at 10D: "Now!" (ASAP) but then, from the gods of cheesy late-80s pop music came a golden life preserver, thrown just for me, a cheesy late-80s pop connoisseur. I cannot believe that, after 35 years, having the lyrics to "Kokomo" permanently embedded in my head finally paid off. But if you know the song then ARUBA is probably the very first thing that popped into your head at 10A: Locale named in the Beach Boys'"Kokomo." I would sing the chorus for you, but it has the phrase "come on, pretty mama" in it, and so I just can't. Too unbecoming. Oh, what the hell. ARUBA, Jamaica, oooh I'm gonna take ya / Bermuda, Bahama, [whispers] comeonprettymama / Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go etc." My wife and I (and maybe our friend Lena) once made up a version of this chorus, but with central New York cities instead of tropical islands. "Elmira, Owego, don't forget Oswego / Deposit, and Conklin, come on Oneonta"etc. Try it with the towns in your area! Anyway, how do you not love a corner that's giving you ARUBA ADUBA (18A: Emmy winner Uzo). Shooby dooby doo. Amazing.
[WARNING: Ear Worm levels = toxic]
The NE corner filled itself in and I was off ... not exactly "to the races," but I was off. Toughest part of the puzzle, for me, after I got moving, was the STIMTOY / ATRA crossing. I did not know what -DAY was allegedly a [Dreaded time for many], so the MON- part wasn't there. I think I had PEER AT before PEER IN (27A: Go window shopping, perhaps). So the missing MON- and errant AT were already gunking that section up. Then, after I accepted that the puzzle was not going to be a rebus and thus STRESS (BALL) couldn't be right, I thought I'd hit gold (ORO!) with STIMMER. I thought that was the general name of the [Handheld object used to release excess energy] (We had STIMMING in a recent puzzle, so the concept should be familiar to most of you by now if it wasn't already). But the STIMMER is the person STIMMING—a STIM TOY is what they're STIMMING with. As for ATRA, ugh, not good fill, ever (big crosswordese), and the clue did nothing to endear it to me. If it weren't in this crucial position, I wouldn't have cared, but here, ugh. My one "ugh" for this puzzle (35A: ___Plus (pharmacy brand)). Nothing else in the grid really held me up once I got going. Lucked out guessing PÈRES (instead of MÈRES) at 23D: French family members and then lucked out again guessing KAPPA off that "P" (22A: 10th in a series) (once I get past Epsilon, I have no idea what Greek letter goes where). Those answers and ICEE gave me the NW. The SE was easy. The SW felt treacherous (ballet moves! Mysterious Cuban instruments!?). But I had the FESS of FESS UP and the PLANT of PLANT SITTER (51A: Temporary water provider) in place, and I knew who Arundhati ROY was (43A: Arundhati ___, Booker Prize-winning author), so that corner wasn't so tough after all.
Explainers:
- 44A: One in the last line of defense, typically (SAFETY)— important defensive position in (American) football
- 5D: It's black and white (or sometimes red) (PANDA) — gah! Such a good clue. Totally stumped me. I was considering PRADA at one point, thinking "well, that's a weird way to come at handbags, but OK!")
- 12D: Went from 0 to 180, say (U-TURNED)— degrees on a circle. Some math nerd will chime in on whether this is a valid clue or not. Felt fine to me. You do a 180, you go in the opposite direction ... yep, checks out.
- 52D: Cuban instrument that ironically has six strings (TRES) — excellent clue, since I had No Hope of inferring it without the number nudge (TRES = "three" in Spanish, of course). Looks like a guitar, but instead of six equally spaced strings, it's got three groupings of two strings each. This video gives you a good idea:
It's cooling down here in the NE, so I can finally start to *enjoy* summer. Off to Ithaca today. Hope you've got something fun planned. Or nothing at all planned—sometimes that's the most fun. See you next time.
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