New York Times, Friday, October 26, 2018

In the crossword world, low-hanging thematic fruit can be hard to come by. This makes building ‘freestyle' puzzles an attractive proposition for many a budding constructor.

Development of this puzzle began with the lower-right corner. My goal was to stack three jazzy, new, and perhaps even quasi-related entries (see: Matt Ginsberg)—with minimal to no fill compromises. That corner, which I filled manually back in 2015, established the grid's block pattern. The puzzle's layout is comparatively straightforward from a constructor's perspective because it is relatively segmented. This means you can start building out from any corner, and you likely won't need to tear out your work later on.

I would revisit and complete the grid two years later. The awesome chain sweetgreen introduced me to the KALE CAESAR salad; once I discovered it on other menus, I figured it was worth a cruciverbal shot. I hope that entry was, at a minimum, inferable/worth a chuckle! I was thrilled to be able to incorporate BIG PHARMA, PERP WALK, PH TEST, and "BWAHAHA!!!" My one real fill regret is HAYS, though today I might replace LUSTS FOR as well.

I've always enjoyed wordplay, and I attempted to clue up this late-week puzzle with a hefty serving of linguistic gymnastics. In the end, most of my submitted clues didn't make the cut. Will & Co. came up with great clues for 1-A and 44-D; you can blame me for 39-D. For those gluttons for pun-ishment, here were a handful of my sneakier concoctions:

10-D: One might accompany a charge

26-D: Lightly push back?

41-A: Sore spots?

51-D: Veiled remarks?

Every four years, I eagerly tune in to Olympic diving. Such power, grace, body control, athleticism. Mesmerizing!

As much as I enjoy insanely complicated dives, something like a reverse 2 ½ somersault pike gets me tense, all worked up. It's incredibly rare for something so daunting to be pulled off to perfection. More often than not, there's at least some technical flaw, a bit of a splash caused by an entry that's not clean. And sometimes, disaster happens. Belly flop!

Simpler dives like a forward somersault tuck can be so much more pleasing. They're easy enough to execute that you're often graced with a work of art and elegance. Not difficult for experienced divers, but it still looks amazing.

I like that Evan's themeless debut came on 72-word puzzle, the equivalent of a forward somersault tuck. Although it's a very low degree of difficulty, check out how well Evan used all his long slots. So much color in NO PRESSURE, SWEET TALKS, BIG PHARMA, ALPINE LAKE, etc. — no TABLE SCRAPs! Virtually no long slot used unwisely.

Well, Evan has a good point — maybe LUSTS FOR. I've become more and more uncomfortable over the years with lascivious-sounding entries like this. Perhaps having a young daughter has affected me more than I know.

Two minor deductions: one, for using so many three-letter words. My solve felt choppy, like I kept on having to go to the next word every few seconds, never being allowed to savor a big, open section. Secondly, grid flow was choked off a bit, black squares creating so many bottlenecked little passageways.

But overall, a textbook example of a relatively easy construction task, executed very well. This is the way themeless constructors ought to be wringing the most value out of their long slots. This judge gives it high marks.

P.S. It didn't occur to me until after reading Evan's note, but what a hilarious term in Hail — er, KALE CAESAR! I don't mind learning something new from my puzzle, and it becomes a joy when that something new makes me laugh.