New York Times, Wednesday, September 12, 2018

It's always nice to see one's work published in the New York Times, but I was especially gratified to see this one appear — it had been accepted on January 21, 2017! Well, as they say, good things come to those who wait. For those of you who found 2-Down to be difficult, please note that the event mentioned in the clue was less than a month in the past when the puzzle was accepted.

The puzzle theme is similar to one I published in the Chronicle of Higher Education several years ago entitled "Made in Japan". I noticed that several Japanese words commonly known to English speakers have literal translations that are rather surprising or intriguing. For example, "sayonara" means "if it must be so" and "karaoke" means "empty orchestra". More recently, I noticed the same thing sometimes occurs in the names of French food items, and the presence of the inimitable Julia Child on American television offered a revealer that would lead to such theme entries. In devising the grid, I was fortunate in the letter length of the selected entries; they allowed me to use a progression of terms that become, to a degree, relatively harder to spell or less familiar as one proceeds down the grid.

And a pun hangs in the air that I can't resist — the French terms are all theme entries, but not all entrées. Despite that comment, I hope you enjoy the puzzle.

I was delighted by MILLE FEUILLE — watching bakers build their "thousand layer" pastries is fascinating; a neat mix of art and science. You need an aesthetic sensibility in order to entice the consumer, but also an understanding of chemistry to make the textures and flavors come together.

Same goes for crossword construction. Novel and interesting themes take creativity. But without the ability to execute on a solid grid, the puzzle doesn't come together.

I thought Jeffrey did well with this theme. There are probably many more French cooking terms that have entered into common usage, but I couldn't immediately think of any. And I like that each one here has a literal translation. BOUILLABAISSE = "boil and lower"? Fun!

The chemical reactions had problems, though. There were so many gluey aftertastes: EBON, EDDA LATHS, AERO, LE ROI, etc. Part of the problem was that Jeffrey had to work around that central 13-letter BOUILLABAISSE, which creates so many problems — especially given that the 12-letter HORS DOUEVRES and MILLE FEUILLE also force black square placements.

But a bigger part of the problem was trying to incorporate too many long bonuses. Break up EYES OF BLUE at the O, and it's easy to clean up EBON. Break up AS WITH at the I (and then get rid of the black square in front of AFT), and you can clean up the tough SHINZO ABE / TZE crossing.

(It's important to know world leaders. But I'd be sympathetic to a solver who put in SHINSO ABE.)

A solid recipe, but the execution of the bake could have been improved.

I imagine something I call The Editor's Dilemma. Suppose you're responsible for 365 daily puzzles a year, not just to edit, but to select. How do you choose? Crosswords that rely only on wide-spread knowledge become tedious. Ones that target specialized knowledge risk turning off as many solvers as they please.

If you speak French (being Canadian helps sometimes!) and you love to eat, today's puzzle is a delight. I quickly entered theme answers, all the while realizing that if Mr. Wechsler had targeted literal meanings of, say, Mexican food, my experience would have been less satisfying. Is this fair? Is fair even relevant? We sometimes see puzzles that rely on intimate knowledge of Manhattan geography, Sondheim musicals, or professional tennis. Me? I'm still waiting for a grid with all eight of Brünnhilde's Valkyrie sisters from The Ring. (How do you spell Roßweiße again?)

I agree with Jeff that crossing SHINZO with TZE is rough, especially since those are both transliterations.

"CRY havoc and let slip the dogs of war" is just one of many great lines Mark Antony gets. Trust me; that Shakespeare guy is going to be a household name.