Frenetic bursts of energy in pets, colloquially / SAT 5-3-25 / North African egg-and-tomato dish / Tries to talk smoothly, in slang / Spicy alternative to a Frito / Was way too keyed up, in modern slang / Renata ___, longtime journalist for The New Yorker / Stakes of some bar bets / "The lowest form of human behavior," per John Oliver / Remoulade base, informally / Eponymous Belgian tourist spot

Constructor: Michael Lieberman

Relative difficulty: Easy (although I think I was lucky and the difficulty might actually be closer to Medium for many)

THEME: none 

Word of the Day: Renata ADLER (51D: Renata ___, longtime journalist for The New Yorker) —

Renata Adler (born October 19, 1937) is an American author, journalist, and film critic. Adler was a staff writer-reporter for The New Yorker for over thirty years and the chief film critic for The New York Times from 1968 to 1969. She has also published several fiction and non-fiction books, and has been awarded the O. Henry Prize, a Guggenheim Fellowship, and the PEN/Hemingway Award. [...] In 1962, Adler became a staff writer for The New Yorker, working under William Shawn. [...] While at the New Yorker, Adler became a mentee and close friend of colleague Hannah Arendt. In 1968, despite not being involved in the film trade, she was hired by Arthur Gelb to succeed Bosley Crowther as film critic for The New York Times. Her esoteric, literary reviews were not well received by film studio distributors. She was not happy with the Times's deadlines and in February 1969, she was replaced by Vincent Canby and returned to The New Yorker. [...] In 1980, upon the publication of her New Yorker colleague Pauline Kael's collection When the Lights Go Down, she published an 8,000-word review in The New York Review of Books that dismissed the book as "jarringly, piece by piece, line by line, and without interruption, worthless", arguing that Kael's post-1960s work contained "nothing certainly of intelligence or sensibility", and faulting her "quirks [and] mannerisms", including Kael's repeated use of the "bullying" imperative and rhetorical question. Adler's motivations were considered to be either wanting to "uphold The New Yorker's usually high standards" or stemming from "personal differences with Kael". The piece, which stunned Kael and quickly became infamous in literary circles, was described by Time as "the New York literary Mafia['s] bloodiest case of assault and battery in years." New Yorker editor William Shawn called Adler's attack "unfortunate" and mentioned his admiration for Kael, saying that her "work is its own defense"; David Denby, of New York magazine, wrote that Adler "had an old-fashioned notion of prose". Kael's own response was indifferent: "I'm sorry that Ms. Adler doesn't respond to my writing. What else can I say?"

• • •

Well this certainly got better as it rolled along. I was not so enamored of the NW corner—despite its having the wonderful "LET'S FACE IT...," it felt pretty ordinary, and maybe a little too choked w/ crosswordese (ADLAI LOA ALES INTER A-TEAM), so I figured I was on my way to a workmanlike Saturday offering, at best. But then, as soon as I dropped out of that corner, the puzzle got the ZOOMIES (23A: Frenetic bursts of energy in pets, colloquially). It was like the grid became self-aware, and started zooming all over the damn place, with long, original, modern phrases careening off the walls and bouncing across the grid the way my cats bounce off the couch and other furniture when they get the ZOOMIES (which we, less childishly and more dignifiedly, call "parkour"). I went from thinking "oh, nice use of 'Z'" to having to hold on to my hat as the puzzle started really shaking, and surprising me. SPITS GAME (30D: Tries to talk smoothly, in slang) and LOSER PAYS (32D: Stakes of some bar bets) in the same corner! I mean, yes, that corner also has ANAL crossing ANAL, which maybe isn't ideal, but those longer, modern, colloquial answers pack so much of a punch that I almost didn't notice the anality (or the continued appearance of crosswordese (SSR, SLOE)), and certainly didn't care. This puzzle HAD NO CHILL (57A: Was way too keyed up, in modern slang). I loved it like I love many AGED CHEESEs, like, yes, it smells funky, and that's the way I like it. ELKHOUNDS, yes, let the dogs out, dogs improve everything, throw them in too! (34D: Norwegian hunting dogs). No SIGHING, only flying today. ZIP ME UP, zip me down! Closed things out by miraculously remembering SHAKSHUKA based almost entirely on a picture of it that hangs in Lev Kitchen in Ithaca, NY, which I have stared at many times as I sat there enjoying my delicious Levantine food. The picture doesn't even say SHAKSHUKA on it, I don't think, but I could identify it ... and so that picture has now stuck in my brain as SHAKSHUKA central. Still haven't actually had SHAKSHUKA. Gotta change that, maybe sooner than later (12D: North African egg-and-tomato dish).

The puzzle played very easy for me, but then, despite being AGED like CHEESE, I've heard all the slang phrases it had to offer, and I knew who Renata ADLER was. It's easy to imagine other people not being so lucky. I feel like SPITS GAME is gonna lose a lot of people older than I am, although apparently the term dates back to at least the '60s, so what do I know? I had a little trouble dropping both SPITS GAME and LOSER PAYS, but ARTISANAL got me into that SW corner (31D: Made using traditional methods), and I helped me crawl my way back out. Otherwise, there was very little resistance today. When 1-Across is both long and a stone-old gimme (1A: Source of the line 'Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend"), that's a good indicator that the solve is gonna come down on the Easy side. ANIMAL FARM instantly got me most of the Downs up there—only one error (ATTIC for A-TEAM) against a half dozen or so correct initial guesses, including METIER off just the "M" (10D: Calling), which made me feel oddly powerful, like today was gonna be my day. 

[55A: Common tater]

I think the best happy surprise I had today was "LOSER PAYS," because that one went from "what word is this?" to "oh, damn ... good one." Nice to feel like the initial confusion and struggle is worth it, ultimately. But getting SHAKSHUKA with hardly any letters in place was also a thrill, not only because it's a great word and it was great to remember it so easily, but also because it flipped a bad word to good—that is, the second "K" in SHAKSHUKA knocked out HOOEY and ushered in HOKUM (38A: Malarkey). Unexpected pitfall: would not have thought there were two HO- words that fit [Malarkey] so well. But SHAKSHUKA to the rescue, and then the lovely "THAT'S ON ME" (14D: "I'm responsible for what happened"), and finally John Oliver's accurate and funny quote about PUNS put the cherry on the sundae (11D: "The lowest form of human behavior," per John Oliver). The end. Nice work.

Notes:

• 19A: Bass output (ALES) — Bass is a brewery. Bass Pale Ale was once the highest-selling beer in the UK (per wikipedia).
• 35A: Subatomic particle that binds quarks together (GLUON) — my way of dealing with subatomic particle names is, first, you get the initial letter(s), and then, you add "-UON" or "-ION" or just "-ON," somehow ... MUON, GLUON, PION, MESON, NEESON ... Ok one of those isn't real, but the rest are!
• 42A: Gets out of the way, as hair (TIES UP) — I was thinking more of a wisp of hair than alllll the hair, so there was some hesitation here. Not at all thrilled with UP crossing UP here, but the fill is so good, so energetic through here that I couldn't be bothered to care too much. See also the "ME" dupe ("IT'S ME!" "THAT'S ON ME"). Two-letter dupes just don't seem as awful as the larger ones.
• 63A: Director and co-star of 2013's "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" (BEN STILLER) — forgot that he did that one, but love his work generally (esp. his most recent work as executive producer and frequent director of TV's Severance). I liked seeing Ben's name here because it makes me think of his mom, who was not only crossword royalty (82 appearances for MEARA, dating back to 1973), but an avid crossword solver herself. She was the first celebrity I ever met (virtually "met") as a result of being Rex Parker. I've saved this email exchange for 17 years...

One of the great things about watching the entire run of The Love Boat (which we've almost finished now) is that Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller make several (delightful) appearances, and you always know those episodes are gonna be good because nothing with Meara & Stiller on it can be bad. By definition. (Sorry this became an Anne Meara appreciation post ... I suspect BEN STILLER wouldn't mind).

See you next time.

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook]