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Look UP, A TREE! Nine of them, to be exact. Impressive theme density, especially considering that only two of them are short enough to spruce up—

Chop that pun down, buddy!

Don't worry, I won't make you sick a more with any more sycamore puns.

I enjoyed the kookiness of UP A TREE = trees running upward through columns, but I would have loved some sort of revealer to help explain that. There are some wonderful finds, notably SYCAM / ORE in AERO / MACYS, and including something like "chopping wood" would have given it raison d'etre. That's not a perfect revealer, but brainstorming would have been so much fun.

Nine themers, yikes! Every region of the puzzle has to work with at least two themers, and most subsections are saddled with three. Great work to thread in strong bonuses like OBELISK, ART DECO, CREW CUT. That triplet almost feels theme-related, with each of today's trees looking art deco-obelisk-esque … and most of them being cut?

Heavy focus on "-esque."

Although there's a ton of gluey sap dripping around the trees, I appreciated Kathryn's effort to spread it all around, so that no one region fossilized. I worried when my solve began with RAI and ENE, but thankfully PSAS ENT, NOI, TOR AERO, OBI separated themselves from each other. And Tolkien's tree-like ENT is more passable in today's theme, anyway.

Fun grid pattern, eye-catching theme density. With a stronger revealer explaining why the trees were pushing through black squares, it could have grown into a redwood.

– puzzle by Kathryn Ladner

A common game, palindromified into a strategy for that game? Genius-level find in TIC TAC TOE TACTIC.

No one tell my kids about the KAZOO BAZOOKA, as I already fear for the sanity of our household, which is constantly bombarded with sound. It is a hilarious creation and so innovative, and it's even more interesting when written out into its component parts: KA ZOO BA ZOO KA. Could be Netflix's next breakout kids show. I would never have thought of this, and I envy Barbara's creativity.

GO FAR IN FARGO … it fits the pattern, but it's not nearly as novel or memorable as the others.

I struggled with TORMENTED MENTOR. It does work — TOR MEN TED MEN TOR — but my first parsing wanted TOR MENT ED. Checking the dictionary, it looks like it could go either way. It did torment me much more than the smile-inducing KAZOO BAZOOKA.

Solid gridwork from Barbara. Only two long Downs in the usual spots, but she took full advantage of them with OUTDOORSY and SELF-SERVE. Working in additional freshies like MOLLIFY and LAMAZE mollified my desire for more.

I would have liked improved solving flow since the chokepoint in the middle nearly halves the grid. Opening up a path around the A of IKEA would have been great.

I can see how the two POW!-level themers led to an acceptance from Will Shortz. A shame that it wasn't three or even four.

– puzzle by Barbara Lin

So many casual solvers have no idea that professional crosswords have themes, and that's what makes them stand out from the computer-generated dreck that many small newspapers run. Even my mother-in-law, who's a dedicated daily solver, is content with filling in most of the Bloomington Herald-Times's crappy auto-generated puzzle. She's incredibly proud of me and brags to her friends about my work, but identifying a crossword theme is as much a mystery as why I'm always in the bathroom for such long stretches of time.

(Hiding from my children.)

There's no way she would have picked up on today's concept, and I almost missed it as well. I'm glad I huddled with Jim Horne to figure out if this was a themeless puzzle or what, because Simeon has an interesting take on the parsing genre. TAKE FIVE = entries "take" five letters from the previous one to form a new and valid entry:

IGNOR / AMUSES

TRAPS / HOOTERS

REVER / BERATES

INDIG / NATION

Jim and I should be indignant that we were such ignoramuses to miss this! The aha is so indirect, though, that the concept didn't strongly reverberate even after I figured iit out.

Would circling the sets of five letters have helped make things clear? Most definitely, but that risks insulting solvers' intelligence. I'm sure there are some people that realized [*Complete fools] — starred even, to make it stand out! — couldn't possibly be AMUSES.

Not this complete fool, unfortunately.

TAIL ENDS messed with me, too. Was that meant to be thematic?

I love the novelty, an innovative approach that throws a rock into the sea of parsing themes. A sharper revealer — maybe running the themers vertically and using HIGH FIVE? — could have elevated this one into POW! consideration.

– puzzle by Simeon Seigel

MOTHER SUPERIOR and PATERNITY TESTS — cheeky mini-theme! Such brilliant clues make these marquee entries truly superior, too. As much as I love innocently devilish wordplay that doesn't require question marks, on a Friday, sometimes I'm looking for easy-peasy fun. [Big sister?] and [… make someone pop?] both gave me a laugh.

I love PLAY MONEY to kick off a themeless, as it's such a playful entry. I wasn't as enamored by the clue, though. Great attempt to repurpose the delicious Junior Mint, but the link between "junior" and "play" passes Do Not Pass Go.

My kids love the HOME ALONE movies, and it drives Jill crazy. Not only does that franchise (seriously, SIX of them?!) encourage our kids to build booby traps, but that first movie is so ancient. The clue does a great job of freshening up the entry. I miss Roger Ebert and his acerbic, on-point commentary.

I've gotten pushback from several editors now on IBO. It's such a constructor-friendly sequence, alternating vowel consonant vowel, but IGBO is the preferred spelling.

IF I WERE YOU, I might have connected with the lower right stack more. As a kid, I used to like the Beach Boys, but PET SOUNDS sounds dated now. And I know I was supposed to love the critically acclaimed "Watchmen." My brother raved about it, but ALAN MOORE's content and drawings failed to draw me in.

Good thing there was so much else that did attract me. WET NOODLES is evocative, as is ON TIPPY-TOE crossing STINKER. How did Brandon know about the fits my kids threw at the swimming pool the other day?

– puzzle by Brandon Koppy

Saturday school is in session! Where have I heard the prefix HAGIO? Certainly not from HAGIOGRAPHY … ah, is the Hagia Sophia related? I bet it is! Now, if I could remember what the Hagia Sophia is. Surely it's … something to do with government? Wait, maybe it's like the Hollywood Walk of Fame? Was Sophia Loren involved ... because Loren is a tiny bit reminiscent of -latry?

Dammit Jim, I'm an engineer, not a crossword constructor who should know these things—

Dammit, Jim Horne knew this. A-ha! But did he know about the ironic usage, applying the term to "celebrities"?

Dammit, he did.

Thankfully, TAIKONAUT came much more easily, at least to this fan of Taiko drummers. Back when I worked as a mechanical engineer, I had the good fortune to have many work trips to Japan, including a few where I got a chance to see Taiko—

What? TAIKONAUT is a Chinese astronaut? If only I hadn't gotten kicked out of Chinese school as a kid for spacing out all the time.

(There might have been tacks on people's seats, too.)

I've never been happier for a strange short entry like ZONAL. I did recall Zoroastrianism after finally piecing together ZOROASTER, but I had thought that Zoroastrianism had East Asian roots.

It's a miracle that I made it past high school.

My stupidity aside, I declare victory over this Saturday challenge without many derogatory — er, DEROGATIVE? — words. Learning all these things was an educational experience, and the TRES CHIC additions of IDLE GOSSIP, IF YOU DARE, RETRO DINER helped the lessons go down more easily.

– puzzle by John Guzzetta

Super fun to brainstorm with Lisa, who solidly understands that landing on the seed of an interesting idea is often a matter of quantity. This DROP LEAF TABLE concept is far, far away from Lisa's original idea, and the path we took to get here reminds me of not all those who wander are lost.

Hopefully, solvers make the connection to the grid art in the middle more directly than that.

And it looks more like a DROP LEAF TABLE than Sauron or Mount Doom.

A few months ago, I was grousing about getting scooped on the BAKINGSTONE minus KINGSTON = BAE find. I thought it might even be a fun, insidery look inside the sausage factory.

Unfortunately, a reader wrote in to let me know that I'd spoiled his crossword experience, since he now would always be thinking about this entry whenever he saw my byline, and knowing of it would feel like cheating to him. He ended up intentionally snapping his three-digit streak of crossword solves, moving on to different activities.

Needless to say, I apologized profusely, and he was graceful in accepting.

After more than a decade of doing this, you'd think I'd have learned everything there is to know, but all I can do is keep striving harder and harder to learn from my mistakes. So, no spoilers from here on out.

– puzzle by Lisa Senzel and Jeff Chen

Such a devilishly clever theme: four monstrous phrases that describe real-life bad actors. The main reason Jim Horne and I don't allow comments on XWord Info is INTERNET TROLLs. ENERGY VAMPIRE is new to me, but it makes complete sense. Reminds me of the descriptive engineering term vampire power.

SPEED DEMON isn't as fresh as the others, but it's still in use. Not applied to me, of course, as I drive exactly at the speed limit or below. Much to my wife's impatient howls of chagrin.

Speaking of chagrin, our two SUGAR FIEND kids. Some new-agey nutritionists strongly urge putting dessert on the dinner plate to remove the aura of sweets. We experimented with this long ago, and after a week of Tess eating the sugar cookie and nothing else …

ANGST is right.

Not as many bonuses in the fill as I want, given the gridding flexibility, but IMAGINEERS is fun, SAILOR MOON is at least two recognizable words if you haven't read it (give it a try, it's entertaining!), and GYM RAT crossing BODY amused me. ACCRUED will accrue more interest among finance types, but FLORETS and OCCUPY Wall Street are more evocative.

I appreciate smooth Monday solves, and to require only MASC and ETTE is solid work. However, with four themers — two of them ten letters, a manageable length to work with — I want a spotless grid. Maybe there's a personal reason for putting in MASC (or loving MEMES as fill?), but that north region could have been squeaky clean (perhaps using an extra black square at the A of ACCRUED).

I enjoyed the beastly collection, and I appreciated learning ENERGY VAMPIRE today. Congrats to Alissa on her debut!

– puzzle by Chloe Revery and Alissa Revness

State postal codes are so overdone that it often seems impossible for yet another one to get published. Yet Zachary innovated in an engaging way, playing on STATE LINES by abutting two states that touch each other in real life, at the end of one word and the start of another, as in ROYAL FLUSH. We've adjusted the grid below to show the four heavy lines in the print version. We've also highlighted the adjoining states to ensure no one misses what's happening.

My deficiencies in geography are well-documented, as when I mixed up Wisconsin and Wyoming once, much to my wife's amusement/horror. This Seattleite does know that Oregon and Washington touch, but Kansas and Colorado? Even after spending a lot of time in Indiana, where my mother-in-law lives, I'd have to sell my soul to the DEVIL INCARNATE to figure out any other possibilities off the top of my head.

(Thanks, Google maps! Google already owns my soul, anyway.)

Even after studying the US map, I was mystified by STARBUCKS COFFEE. Isn't Kansas to the east of Colorado, not the west? Is my geographic idiocy because I've been looking at the map upside down all these years?

Of course, only the most anal of pedants would require 100% geographical accuracy in this concept. It should be enough that ALabama and FLorida touch, yet I'm hardly a COMPANY MAN when it comes to themes. I'd have loved four great finds that also exhibited correct geographical relative positioning, like BOTANICAL GARDEN and such. Could even have run some vertically, like PARLOR CAR.

Maddening overanalysis aside, I enjoyed the creative extra level that elevated from the wasteland of postal codes themes. Impeccable gridwork, too.

– puzzle by Zachary David Levy

A year ago, Caryn and I batted around SOMEDAY. MY PRINTS WILL COME, trying to do something interesting with it. I enjoyed the humorously wistful imagery, but it didn't feel like enough to build an entire puzzle around. We ended up going in a completely different direction, but I hope that someday she gets a chance to use it. Perfect title for a cozy mystery featuring an impatient detective.

I appreciated that this was more than a run-of-the-mill homophones puzzle, featuring NCE to NTS. It felt too familiar, though, some detective work turning up several ancestors and one predecessor. It's unfortunate that Paula's used two of the exact same themers, but realistically, only a tiny fraction of the solving population will even have an inkling of past puzzles. Still, it's a point of pride in the construction community to renew rather than rehash.

I did enjoy the two new ones — NO CHANTS IN HELL would be a truly hellish fate for my daughter, who loves to sing at the top of her lungs, bless her soul, but with a decidedly unblessed tone deafness. We're gently working on that.

Curious choice to clue OTTO to OTTO Porter Jr., whose claim to fame is his repeated underperformance sinking many of my fantasy basketball teams. Not that I still hold a grudge.

Great to have the TINSELTOWN sparkle along with Bill Watterson's CARTOONING (not so much "The Family Circus") to help keep up interest, especially for those solvers who might not even notice the NCE to NTS extra level.

– puzzle by Caryn Robbins and Matthew Stock

What an entertaining two-way rebus, the ID and EGO fighting each other in a battle over IMPULSE CONTROL. Not having taken any psychology back in college, I had to look up the definitions of ID (instinctual) and EGO (rational) and was confused by the presence of the SUPEREGO (moralizing). It was enough to give me a Freudian complex.

Fantastic themers in HE GOT GAME, OFFICE GOSSIP, RUBE GOLDBERG. Not only is each an evocative phrase, but E/GO gets split across two words. Will Shortz is usually strict about that criterion in "hidden words" puzzles, so MOVIEGOER doesn't work as well.

BRIDES TO BE and MAMA SAID are also vivid, though neither breaks across two words, as in PETRI DISH or CHILI DOG.

OPIOID works. LAID IN just lies in there, though. It's a shame to not have stronger Down themers, but with four special squares, it's so difficult to do much better than this. I do like the decision to pack in four squares rather than three, which would have felt thin.

This is one of the rare cases where I'd have asked if the constructors would be willing to expand into a Sunday-size grid. It's a novel concept, and the 21x21 canvas would have made it possible to keep IMPULSE CONTROL as an unbroken entry, along with beautiful E/GO and I/D themers in both directions. Maybe you could even work in some punny Freudian slips.

Some solvers won't be able to figure out how to "correctly" solve the puzzle, so the NYT theoretically made the following answers acceptable in those special squares:

• EGO/ID
• ID/EGO
• EGO
• ID
• E
• I

I imagine I'll still get some frustrated emails from solvers desperate to keep their streak alive, but such an interesting concept makes it worth the trouble.

– puzzle by Natan Last and the J.A.S.A. Crossword Class

Excellent pairing in THE SKYS THE LIMIT and YOU WON'T REGRET IT. Such optimism and positivity!

John-Clark's discussion of segmenting is on point. Once you put in the two long marquee entries, you can quickly experiment with the COBBLER and LINCOLN slots, testing to see what you can do with the two big corners. Once you lock those entries into place, you can work on each of the three grid chunks independently of each other. That's a huge constructing advantage.

Solid results in those corners. OREO CONE and BEAR HUGS make a great duo, and although CD PLAYER is outdated, that clue helps bring it back into style. The "hidden capital" trick is used to perfection here, [Turner once big in the music industry] hinting strongly at Tina or Ike.

POMODORO is a nice debut, though as a one-worder that I've never made before, it didn't hit me strongly. OLIVE OIL and PETER PAN are crossword stalwarts, but ALT POP helped bring more freshness into that corner.

In this grid layout, the upper left and lower right corners are challenging because the two long marquee entries create inflexibility, making it difficult to work in more great long entries. INNOVATE and PASSAGES aren't anything innovative, though OK GOOGLE is more interesting for Android-based solvers.

I remember an ACPT about a decade ago, where David Plotkin was stuck in the finals, unable to break into a corner like today's upper-right. Unable to crack either of the two entries leading in, he ended up not finishing. Hopefully, no solvers have a similar fate today — excellent idea to give both THE SKYS THE LIMIT and YOU WON'T REGRET THIS overly-explanatory clues.

– puzzle by John-Clark Levin

★ Sometimes, a themeless feels like it was created specifically for you. The legends around OUROBOROS have fascinated me for decades, so I created a crossword around it. As a decades-long fan of "The Simpsons," I admire how their neologisms like CROMULENT and "embiggen" have entered English vernacular. Maybe words like "craptacular" have a dumbening effect on our youth, but sometimes numbskullery is so superliminal.

A year ago, I was baffled by the word COPYPASTA. That quickly turned into side-splitting cackling as I perused well-known examples. "How do I get my husband to stop going 'Goblin Mode' during sex?" isn't for the faint of heart. Or for those afraid of busting a gut laughing.

I was put off by COPYPASTA / PASTES IN, since COPYPASTA derives from "copy paste," but that's the goblin in me talking.

In the past two years, I've become obsessed with Mediterranean food because of the health benefits but, more importantly, the deliciousness. I haven't made LABNEH yet, but I frequently order it. To hell with my lactose intolerance!

ATTENTION SPAN is a top-notch themeless entry. I was fascinated by optics in college, and though I didn't focus enough to do well, repurposing [Focal length?] made me reflect on those fun times.

Speaking of optics, a lot of the entries I've praised might cause diffraction among the larger solving population, and I sympathize with those who find my happy musings opaque. As some of the wisest constructors have said about this type of potentially divisive puzzle, though, the great thing about crosswords is that if you don't like today's, there's a reasonable chance that you'll like tomorrow's.

– puzzle by Rachel Fabi and Christina Iverson

Given that my picky eaters spurn all pasta except spaghetti — and it has to be the correct brand of spaghetti, mind you — I was amazed to relearn how many pasta shapes there are. Impressive that so many of them can be punned upon. ELBOW GREASE was my highlight, such an apt description of the olive oil I use in cooking elbow macaroni (that the kids push away).

BUTTERFLIES IN YOUR STOMACH, yeah right! More like butterflies in dad's usual mixed-bowlful-of-motley-things-the-kids-refused-to-even-try lunch medley.

SPIRALS OUT OF CONTROL also entertained me, given our kids' propensity for leaving a disaster area underneath their chairs.

This is my life.

I often only scan through Will Shortz's note, as it usually contains only basic biographical information, but I read today's with great interest. It's neat to see the personal touches; an insider's look at the constructor. Entries like SUZE ORMAN, NEOPET, and ATTA are neat hints toward Manaal's life. I'd love to see more of this, both from constructors and from Will.

Speaking of accessibility, I would have loved a more explanatory clue for SHOEGAZE. Referencing performers' tendency to stare down at their effects pedals would not have only generated a better click, but what a neat origin story for that term.

Thankfully, the clues for HULAS and SOUPBONE more than made up for that. "Hip things to do" is groan-worthily hilarious, and repurposing "stock option" is star wordplay.

Impressive work from a tyro constructor, finishing with a less-than-average quantity of ASST ERNO ETD TYRO glue.

– puzzle by Manaal Mohammed

For us math lovers, number-focused puzzles GO TO ELEVEN. Apt that the two longest bonuses are a HIGH OCTANE / THRILL RIDE!

Stop shaking your head at me.

Simon and Trenton DO THE MATH today, repurposing number-related phrases to arrive at ONE AND DONE. They could have used ONE as a basic revealer, but ONE AND DONE caps off the equation by dropping the mic. ONE … AND DONE. Boom!

Probably best that I'm not in show business.

I enjoyed this one more than last year's DO THE MATH, mainly because the first themer made for a bigger opening. Tough to compare any two puzzles though, as there's a fine line between Jeff and clever.

PLUS ONE, TAKE TEN, and HALF OFF are all in the language, and (11 + 1 - 10) / 2 indeed results in ONE AND DONE.

(ONE AND DONE is a common term for basketball players who do their mandatory one year in college, and they're done, declaring for the NBA draft afterward.)

With five shortish themers, I expect near perfection in gridwork, and Simon and Trenton didn't disappoint. I love it when I can't point to a single hiccup on a Monday. Sure, there are some entries that my crossword-newb neighbor down the street won't know, but these are all crossed by common words. In fact, a great majority of the entries are regular words instead of proper names, which is a big reason why I sailed through the solve.

I loved the prompt to rewatch "This is Spinal Tap" clips, and the theme both started and ended strongly. I'm already part of Trenton's FANDOM, and it's neat to see his and Simon's partnership at work.

– puzzle by Simon Marotte and Trenton Lee Stewart

Time for "Name That Theme"! WITCH, GODDESS, DIVA, QUEEN … finally, a Dungeons & Dragons theme!

What do you mean DIVA isn't a D&D role?

Apparently, you didn't play with the same Dungeonmaster I did. What a drama king.

FEMALE LEAD is an apt revealer, pointing to the fact that each of these first words is typically a woman. I have heard DIVA used to describe men, though, especially when referencing a certain nit-picking crossword blogger who rants because he always makes ridiculous demands from constructors and unrepentantly suggests impossibilities even when Jim Horne strongly suggests that this is a not only an illogical but a stupid idea.

People might wonder why I have MACHU and VINCI scored so low — even lower than AMAS, ENGR, ISA, NYER. I DON'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN MYSELF, he shouted before throwing his +1 sword of destiny at the Amber Dragon.

(It's because so many editors have dinged me for these types of entries that not only take up valuable five-letter slots but can only be clued in a single, dull way, removing the possibility of variety.)

A lot of modern entries: SWOLE (derived from "swollen"), RETCON (retroactive continuity), DIVA CUP, GODDESS LOCS (shortened from dreadlocks). Why is it GODDESS LOCS and not GODDESS LOCKS? Probably because LOCKS is too swole.

(SWOLE has always made me cringe — such an icky word — but I loved learning GODDESS LOCS, especially since it's a hairstyle I've seen everywhere.)

I enjoyed the featuring of stereotypically female terms. Solid job in disguising them, too; DIVA CUP throwing me off the scent.

– puzzle by Malaika Handa

★ Sometimes, I wonder if a puzzle is worthy of our Grid Art page — not today. Stunning artwork, worthy of the TAJ MAHAL itself. Graying out all the interior squares, adding a thick, decorative line to represent the SPIRE at the top, including MINARETS on the sides, and the TOMB so perfectly placed? Although the blank grid didn't immediately scream TAJ MAHAL, it's an impressionist masterpiece.

Neat combination of shaded squares, circled letters, and grid effects, too. TAJ MAHAL could have been a straightforward grid entry like MINARETS, but adorning the top of the ONION DOME is an apt way to pay homage to the monument's gilded features.

I wasn't aware of SHAH JAHAN, and although I had to piece together every letter, it was so worth it. What a legacy! To be known as "King of the World," commissioning the TAJ MAHAL, leading the Mughal Empire to its peak of existence. He deserves an entire crossword to himself!

I had a few hesitations as I solved. LETHAL BLOW is a passable entry, but placing it front and center as the longest Across entry makes it feel thematic. Although it hints that the TAJ MAHAL is a tomb, it's far from ideal.

The grid is also highly sectioned, with only a few connection points between shaded and unshaded regions. I don't mind this inelegance as much, though, given that it adds to the feel of a labyrinthine tomb.

With so many constraints, there are quite a few fill compromises. Overall, though, they're simply imperfections that give art its life, reminding us all of our flawed humanity.

– puzzle by Mangesh Ghogre and Brendan Emmett Quigley

Newer constructors often argue that theme genres I call "tried and true" or "overdone" are fresh to them, so why shouldn't they be viable? They can be, but getting an acceptance from an editor who's seen a hundred of those puzzles makes it tricky. Today's puzzle is a fantastic example of what I mean when I say that if you're going to dip into a familiar well, you need something extra.

Initialisms — phrases whose first letters spell something — are a tough sell. Take SOS. A quick search turned up one from 1994. It gets repeated so often that editors are bound to find it dull after repetition, and regular solvers could be right there with them. Sometimes you can innovate with grid art, but too often, it's the SAME OLD STORY.

Erik's finds — parsing regular words into X.Y.Z.(meal term) — is an innovative extra layer. SERRATIONS into S E R RATIONS is a great discovery, as is CAVEATS into C A V EATS. CAR FARE into C A R FARE isn't as wow-worthy, since FARE remains FARE, but it works. And although BRANDISHES to B R A N DISHES breaks the pattern by using four opening letters, it's well-placed as the final theme entry.

That extra layer would have gotten Erik some consideration, but thinking up well-known(ish) foods that use those initials is the turbo boost that sends this over the threshold. C O N = cup of noodles, S E R = shrimp egg rolls, etc. Maybe baked rigatoni alla Norma is a stretch, but points for creativity.

Some solvers have trouble seeing initialisms, so SHORTENING helps alert them to look more carefully.

All in all, a case study in how to revive a crusty theme genre.

– puzzle by Erik Agard

IN EXTREMIS crossing GIVE ME ONE REASON and LIVING ON THE EDGE creates quite a vibe! Even ANIMAL SANCTUARY fits in with them, given how many animals are headed toward extinction.

Beautiful long Downs running through the solid triple-stack — not at all a SO-SO REVIEW. FREE AGENTS and SAUERKRAUT add flavor.

Note how pairs of long Downs constrain the upper left and lower right corners. That causes inflexibility, often spelling trouble when trying to fill those corners with color. WINE BARREL and PROXY VOTE are fantastic, though, especially for us "The Cask of Amontillado" fans.

At first, I didn't get the cleverness of the SADE clue, [Name on the Marquis?]. Read that out loud and you'll get it too (homophone of "marquee").

RENO, apparently, is slang for renovation.

In Taiwanese culture, it's commonplace to let one fly as loud and as forcefully as possible. Better out than in! Hear it loud, hear it proud! I'm curious to hear if solvers consider FART (not as part of BRAIN FART) a GAFFE, though. LIVING ON THE EDGE, indeed.

– puzzle by Kameron Austin Collins

Debuting with a 66-word themeless containing a gaping-wide middle? HELL YEAH, hardly PROSAIC, no need to MOLLYCODDLE David! GILD THE LILY is such a vivid phrase, and it even ties in to SPRAY TAN. What a brilliantly innocent clue, "bronze finish" misdirecting toward a bronze medal.

MONEY SAVERS, HOBBY HORSES, and CLOSED LOOPS aren't as exciting. In the age-old question of color vs. cleanliness, I tend to lean toward a squeaky-smooth solve, and David's center is immaculate. In this case, though, I would have preferred an upgrade on one or two of these long marquee entries, willing to pay the price of a couple of EXT-like minor flaws.

I talk a lot about the importance of clever clues, and repurposing "labor demand" into PUSH! shouted in the delivery room more than qualifies. There are other ways of making entries more interesting, too, as with SKYNET and MAYER. Fun trivia, that the NSA and "Terminator" share at least one thing in common. And what an entertaining tidbit, that T-Swizzle's "Dear John" Mayer or may not be about John MAYER.

"Pyramid blocks" are so helpful in making a low-word count grid more tractable to construct, and they often don't affect the amount of color you can inject into a solve. Today, though, there aren't many long slots (of 8+ letters), and cutting down the chunky pyramids would have helped that. Take away the black square above CABARET CARD and HOBBY HORSES, and you've now created more long slots to bend to your will. That also would open up the bottlenecks from the center region into those corners. It would make it much harder to arrive at a great middle, but it's still doable.

Such a challenge to debut with a 66-worder. Solid effort.

– puzzle by David P. Williams

This puzzle sure brings back memories … of when I could put virtually any food in front of my toddlers, and they'd happily eat more than just TIDBITS.

Right, the book was a staple in our household, too.

Great idea here, the VERY HUNGRY CATERPILLAR munching through seven themers on its way to spelling out TIDBITS. Solid example of the letter-buried-in-hidden-word genre that's becoming more replicated these days.

Michael's desire to get the holes to line up — mirroring the book's layout! — is admirable. This is an extremely difficult task, though, nearing the impossible. With mirror symmetry, six themers lined up is not that bad. Adding a seventh in the center column makes life miserable. Not only do you have to jam in that extra themer, but a long vertical entry in the center column forces you to build a triple-stack around it.

Why is that? Look where Michael has CUPBEARER. Note that COURT RECESS and ORIGINAL SIN could be shortened to nine letters apiece, but there's no way to get them any shorter (without creating one-letter unchecked squares).

The unfortunate result is that the caterpillar (and solver) has to zig-zag through the seven themers. Might be a good thing for the caterpillar at least, given that he needs the exercise to burn off all that gluttony.

Great seed of an idea, and impressively clean gridwork, but TIDBITS didn't give me a fist-pump. It would have been great fun to brainstorm what other meta answer land more strongly, or to doodle with grid art in an attempt to create a wiggly caterpillar out of black squares.

– puzzle by Michael Schlossberg

This week, XWord Info hosts a pilot series called Next Level Constructor! (I've been bingeing Next Level Chef, which is ironic considering my lunch bowls are indistinguishable from our compost bin.) Seven contestants strive to earn the title of Next Level Constructor by taking a tired, trodden-upon theme type and working magic to elevate it into the heavens. Who will win? Stay tuned all week, and we'll announce the winner on Sunday!

Today's contestant drew "homophones," one of the most dreaded categories, as old as meatloaf with boiled vegetables, usually so lacking in flavor that it has to be doused with ketchup. Let's see what Jennifer has served up. TIED and TIDE, WAIVE and WAVE, CURRANT and CURRENT, EDDIE and EDDY. All common homophone pairs ... reaching for the bottle of Heinz …

Wait. SHELL in the center … with a brilliant clue! Ingenious way to play on sounds by focusing on an object commonly associated with sound. Excellent way to bring together TIDE, WAVE, CURRENT, EDDY, all elements of a seascape — a concept that holds steady against the pull of the tide. Yes, one could argue that only a WAVE can be heard in a SHELL, but I'm still awarding points for the creative link between sea sounds and word sounds.

The presentation of the theme was solid, but a central short themer leaves potential for improvement. Why give away the entire conceit halfway through when you could tuck SHELL into a bottom corner to build and amplify the revealer's impact? That could have made this outstanding, as would have artistic plating that evoked a SHELL.

A solid start to Next Level Constructor week!

– puzzle by Jennifer Nutt

Today's Next Level Constructor contestant is a fresh face looking to create wonder among the old guard. Ooh, what misfortune to draw the slang for money category, though. There have been so many plays on BREAD, CABBAGE, CHEDDAR, DOUGH, etc. — make no BONES about it, a new constructor BUCKS the trend only with a massively innovative take.

And that's exactly what Jay did. WONDER BREAD, unfortunately, made a recent appearance relating to money, but Jay cannot be faulted for that. To dredge the muck of money slang and pull up such a tight set of terms related to musicians shows that Jay is one of the YOUNG BUCKS.

Four themers in a tight set are often good enough to gain consideration. To tie them all together with the wordplay in SOUND CHECKS is quite a TENDER touch.

Although PAPER isn't as strong as the others when it comes to everyday money slang, if it's your weakest one, you're doing fine. It's not like having to resort to a GREASE or SALAD.

As for presentation, I froze at FROSE. If only crosswords could accommodate accent marks, I wouldn't have paused for a full minute trying to find my error — FROSÉ would visually have been so much more appetizing. You drink with your eyes, after all. Or something like that.

Otherwise, though, an elevated take on a mature theme. With clean and sparkly corners framing his presentation, Jay is gunning for that Next Level Constructor title.

– puzzle by Jay Silverman

I won't mince words … but today's Next Level Constructor sure will! We've had some excellent creations so far, but they pale in comparison to today's when it comes to unorthodox thinking. BALSAMIC VINEGAR with chopped (spread out) LIVER? Wild (cryptic hint to anagram) RICE inside a MONTE CRISTO sandwich? Perhaps the strangest pairing of all in Split PE AS on PEACH MELBAS?

My instinct to split is overwhelming.

Thankfully, we end the tasting menu with a refreshing WESTERN OMELETTE, with a LEMON turnover (reverse LEMON into NOMEL). That still is an odd pairing, but at least I didn't have to split the PE AS out of my dessert.

Bonus points to Michael for selecting not just one but two classic theme types — words within phrases and cryptic hints — and attempting to combine them into something entirely different. I can't say all of the flavor combinations worked, but for sure, a memorable set of Next Level Constructor moments.

– puzzle by Michael Lieberman

Turning puzzles have become such editorial turn-offs that Will Shortz temporarily halted them several years ago. They're today's Black Forest cake — once a classic, now a relic of a different age.

There's a reason why so many baking shows feature the German gateau in challenges, though. What better way to test one's ability than to ask bakers to put a modern spin on something so old-fashioned?

Robin interprets "spin" literally, giving us four record-like shapes showing the curved answer paths to connect phrases like WENT (OUT) THE WINDOW. How are we supposed to know that the three black squares represent OUT? From the revealer, ROLLING BLACKOUT — or more precisely, ROLLING (spinning) BLACK O-U-T.

Whenever our maestro producer, Jim Horne, has to figure out how the hell to digitally represent a constructor's artistic brainchild — that deserves high marks for novel presentation. (In print, the curved lines in the grid are looping arrows indicating direction. You can see the PDF here if you have an NYT Games Subscription).

Although it's easy to find phrases with OUT in their middles, Robin faced an additional constraint: the last letter before OUT had to match the first letter after. That's not difficult if you do some coding or RegEx, but it's much harder than a simple search like *???OUT???* (which gives you all entries containing OUT, with at least three letters on either side).

With four sets of orthogonal themers in the corners plus the central revealer, some ANON ORO UEY material is acceptable.

Robin's offering may not be the most elegant entry, but it has its modern turns. I wouldn't make a DONC bet against him in this week's Next Level Constructor competition.

– puzzle by Robin Yu

Today on Next Level Constructor, we hope to string you along. Bavette, bigoli, capellini, fedelini, linguine, pici, stringozzi … although they all have unique characteristics, they're ultimately variations on a spaghetti theme. That's not to say they're unworthy in any shape or form — but they are all long and thin. Not a surprise that when cooking contests do focus on pasta, they put the spotlight on the accoutrements rather than the spaghetti itself.

Similarly, 70-word themelesses are variations on a theme. Er, on a themeless. Most of the sauce is usually concentrated in the four corners. Sometimes, a central entry or two shines in a most appetizing way, or may even feature something wildly unexpected. Who would have ever considered pairing stinky cheese and ahi tuna, for example, yet that taste combination is bound to be memorable. If not delicious — at least, not in the traditional sense.

PORTAPOTTIES lends itself so well to clever cluing, and [Heads outside?] hits the mark. Tamped-down memories of my kids having emergency Honey Bucket stops makes it difficult for me to enjoy it, though. Talk about stinky cheese.

NO PAIN, NO GAIN does make for an appropriate pairing — especially given my kids' mac-n-cheese-driven constipation.

There's not as much fresh material as I would like in a themeless — one of the few debuts was BELIEBERS, from the 2010s — but sometimes innovation is all about novel flavor combinations. I did appreciate the OYSTER touches, especially the sharp use of ARM RESTS as places to literally rub elbows, and the shout-out to my beloved Motorola Razr flip phone of yesteryear.

– puzzle by Rafael Musa

★ Today brings our toughest challenge yet on Next Level Constructor. Only the bravest of chefs dare to cook with certain feature ingredients. Fugu is notable for its potential to kill if not prepared correctly, but many others require highly specialized knowledge. Few have ever seen a python steak or yak meat, and it takes fortitude to consider tarantula or jellyfish as the star of a culinary offering.

Such is the 64-word themeless, especially when dealing with quad-stacked answers. If woven together with seasoned expertise, this can be a highlight-of-the-year experience … but a few missteps can result in an unsolvable disaster.

While you might consider "disaster" a drama queenish description of a Did Not Finish, tell that to all the solvers out there who cling onto their triple-digit streak of successful solves, gritting their teeth as they pray that today won't be the day they lose it.

Plating up a giant corner like the lower right takes much more than FAKE SMILES and INITIATIVE. It takes a real HELLRAISER to dare to tackle something like this without sectioning off that corner from the rest of the puzzle. Adrian doesn't only smoothly complete his lower-right corner, but he ANIMATES it with some PONTIFF / GNOMISH cutting through a wonderful quartet of long answers.

And there are other delights woven in, like LOVE LETTER, SOUSAPHONE, I SEE IT NOW (TO NAME A FEW)! Yes, Adrian left specks of ENE OTRA SER TOPO across his grid, but those few imperfections enabled so much seasoning and sparkle.

This would have been a high-end offering if made with ground beef or a chicken thigh, but to produce such vivacious work with crocodile might just make Adrian the GOAT.

– puzzle by Adrian Johnson

Our final contestant in this week's Next Level Constructor is an up-and-comer who I've had the pleasure to work with. Rich is always digging for new ideas, and what I most admire is that for him, good enough is simply not. That applies to both ideas as well as craftsmanship, never willing to let something pass to the next level unless it approaches extraordinary.

Extraordinary is a nearly impossible ask from the done-to-death "initialisms" category, though. Occasionally one rises out of the mire, but a great majority of the time it's an SOS. Home cooks have relied upon varieties of gruel throughout the centuries, and although that has put food into bellies, it too often leaves you wanting more.

There are many ways to elevate gruel from a caloric necessity to a flavor sensation: toppings like dried cuttlefish, a delicate chili oil, a saucy preparation. I enjoyed Rich's plating, hiding the initialisms theme until after my first few bites, making for an unexpected and tasty treat. Riffing on "depose" as a "D pose" = DOWNWARD DOG is dynamite. I wouldn't have guessed that there could be so much variety in an alphabet soup, ending with my favorite, "embosses" cleverly hinting at MIDDLE MANAGEMENT.

Just as any cook beginning with gruel must work miracles with it, someone starting with initialisms must achieve nouvelle construction. This was enough to make me dip in for seconds, and the effort (are there any F forts?) was much appreciated.

And now for the moment we've all been waiting for. Congratulations to every contestant — so many worthy entries, elevating tired themes into modern offerings. But there can only be one victor. The winner of Next Level Constructor is …

Adrian Johnson!

– puzzle by Rich Katz