NYT Connections Hint - February 17, 2026
Hey there, word-wranglers! 🍜 Today’s grid ambushed me before I’d even finished my first sip of coffee—something about the combo of sauces, speed, and an ultra-sneaky purple category had me leafing through mental dictionaries like a kid cramming for a pop quiz. I may have earnestly tried to convince myself that BOMBAY was a velocity word because, you know, Bombay “rushes” forward? (Spoiler: nope.) But the second that sticky hoisin clicked into place, the whole board felt like a wok-shaped lock turning—satisfying, aromatic, and just a little bit messy. Grab your chopsticks, or at least your thinking cap, and let’s slurp our way through today’s lexical dim sum together.
Word Explanations
PLUM
Plum sauce—that sweet, tangy magenta goo that legitimizes every egg roll. My college roommate used to hoard packets in our mini-fridge; by finals week we’d squeeze it straight onto leftover pizza like culinary outlaws. Turns out it’s literally just plums, sugar, and vinegar doing a fruity three-way tango—who knew humble fruit could don a tux and become Chinese BBQ royalty?
LEAF
A single leaf can stage a dramatic fall, but as a verb “to leaf” means fluttering through pages—exactly what I do with new paperbacks, smelling that ink like it’s fresh-baked bread. Fun contradiction: leaves stand still, yet leafing is all motion. English is weird, and I’m here for it.
FLASH
Flash evokes lightning, camera bulbs, and that split-second your brain fireworks when an idea lands. It’s also the hero name of the fastest DC character—sorry, not sorry, Superman fans. Did you know a camera flash lasts roughly 1/1000 of a second? Blink and you literally miss it.
BUSTLE
Bustle sounds energetic—Victorian ladies with big dresses, commuters in Grand Central—but today it’s side-eyeing you from the “dud” category. Etymology flex: it started as “to act busily,” yet here it’s masquerading as the setup to a pun. Language, you sly thing.
THUMB
The VIP of hitchhiking digits. Thumbing a ride feels retro—like Kerouac road-trip retro—but in the puzzle it teams up with skim, flip, and leaf to make the gentlest quartet of page-turners ever. Also, pro tip: giving a “thumbs-up” in Greece can start a minor diplomatic incident, so read the room—or the road.
OYSTER
Oyster sauce: nectar of caramelized oysters, thickened into that dark glossy magic that turns veggies into restaurant-grade indulgence. I once tried to DIY it—my kitchen smelled like low-tide regret for days. Pro tip: leave it to the pros and your neighbors will thank you.
FLOPPY
Floppy takes me back to the ‘90s: clunky disk drives, dial-up screeches, and saving my three-page masterpiece in fluorescent green. Tech nostalgia aside, calling something a “flop” means epic fail—so its inclusion in the dud-pun tier is basically destiny wearing retro glasses.
ZIP
Zip is speed, but also closure—so it’s either a red-shifted blur or the stubborn sibling on your hoodie that snags at the worst moment. Ambi-word! I’ll never forget teaching my nephew to “zip it”—he literally pulled an imaginary zipper across his mouth; kids are the best literalists.
SKIM
Skimming is how I survived college lit: eyes galloping across pages like caffeinated gazelles. Scientists call it “rapid serial visual presentation,” but I call it “Sunday night panic.” Fun note: skimming stones also works—parallel meaning, opposite chill.
SOY
Sey sauce—sorry, couldn’t resist the dad pronunciation—originated in China over 2,500 years ago. Fermented soybeans, salt, and that slow umami magic. Little-known secret: a splash in chocolate cake batter deepens flavor like a spy in culinary noir. Trust me, it’s the sidekick you never saw coming.
DART
Dart equals speed plus precision—like that housefly you swat and miss seventeen times. Biologically, a hummingbird’s tongue actually darts into nectar 15 times a second; nature beat us to the punch again.
BOMBAY
Bombay pulls double duty: vibrant Indian metropolis and sapphire-blue gin icon. Fun city fact: its stock exchange—established 1875—is Asia’s oldest. Puzzle-wise it’s masquerading as a gin-swilling “bomb” (dud). I’ll drink to that pun, but maybe after I finish typing.
SPEED
Speed is the only word in the grid that literally contains “peed” (as in pedal-to-the-metal). Did you know cheetahs top out around 60 mph but tire in seconds? Humans engineered cars that can beat that, yet we still gasp at nature’s own hot-rod kitty.
FLIP
Flip feels flippant—like sarcasm in verb form. It’s also the gymnastic move I never mastered; my one attempt ended in a grass-stain autobiography. Linguistically, it’s the shortest member of today’s riffle crew, but it packs all the breezy nonchalance of a hair toss.
HOISIN
Hoisin is Cantonese for “seafood” even though it contains zero seafood—go figure. Thick, fragrant, sometimes called Chinese BBQ sauce; it’s the hoodie of sauces: comfy, versatile, and always there when you need flavor comfort food.
MISSUS
Missus, slangy twist on “the missus,” lands us smack in sitcom territory—cue laugh track. It shares DNA with “old lady” jokes, which officially slots it into the “dud” starter-pack for pun purposes. I still giggled when it clicked; wordplay dad jokes are my kryptonite.
Theme Hints
RIFFLE (THROUGH)
Imagine standing at a magazine rack—what gentle actions get you from cover to cover without really reading?
ZOOM
Think quick—what words feel like they should come with a rush of wind and maybe a tiny sonic boom?
SAUCES IN CHINESE CUISINE
If your takeout bag drips with umami, these saucy suspects are probably to blame.
STARTING WITH SYNONYMS FOR "DUD"
Peek at the first syllables—each secretly nods to an old-fashioned word for “failure” or “laughable dud.”
Answers Explanation
Click to reveal answers!
RIFFLE (THROUGH)
:FLIP,LEAF,SKIM,THUMBRiffle, the polite cousin of “flip through,” unites this foursome. Thumb is literally the digit you use to fan pages; Flip is what you do impatiently during commercials; Skim feels collegiate—I used to “skim” 60 pages of Moby-Dick ten minutes before seminar (sorry, Professor!); Leaf instantly plants me in a bookstore, inhaling paper smell while browsing. All four scream casual browsing energy, just with different degrees of paper-cut risk.
ZOOM
:DART,FLASH,SPEED,ZIPThese four are pure velocity in verbal form. Dart makes me picture a hummingbird’s beeline to the feeder; Flash drags me back to every superhero sprint I ever doodled in sixth-grade margins; Speed is the no-nonsense member of the gang—just raw mph; and Zip practically sounds like a cartoon sound effect for something ricocheting off the walls. Put them together and you’ve got a pocket-sized thesaurus for “going fast”—no seatbelt required.
SAUCES IN CHINESE CUISINE
:HOISIN,OYSTER,PLUM,SOYChinese-takeout night in word form! Soy is the salty workhorse hiding in nearly every stir-fry; Oyster sauce brings that dark, caramelized depth you can’t quite replicate; Plum slides in with its sweet-sour royalty vibe—hello, duck pancakes; and hoisin—that glossy, garlicky hug—basically bottled comfort. Taste-wise they span salty, sweet, and umami, so together they form the Fantastic Four of condiments on my lazy Susan.
STARTING WITH SYNONYMS FOR "DUD"
:BOMBAY,BUSTLE,FLOPPY,MISSUSWelcome to Pun-ville: each word starts with an old-school synonym for “dud.” Bombay—Bombay gin, aka the booze that can turn any cocktail into a bit of a bust if you overdo it; Bustle sounds like the frantic energy of a fool’s errand; Floppy—remember the disk that always seemed to corrupt at the worst moment? Classic fail; Missus as in “the old missus,” playful slang that can poke fun at a sitcom husband. String the first letters together and you get B-B-F-M… which isn’t a secret code, just proof the puzzle makers love a good dad-joke chuckle.
My brain is halfway to dumpling-coma mode after untangling this board. I definitely spent too long trying to convince myself that FLIP belonged with Flash/Speed/Zip—because, you know, flips are fast? (Nice try, past-me.) When the sauces finally locked in and the last purple tiles snapped together, I felt that fizzy little victory rush—kind of like popping open a new bottle of soy. If today’s grid had you pacing around the kitchen at 6 a.m. searching for answers, welcome to the club; we meet by the wok and share dumplings. Tomorrow will throw brand-new curve-balls at us, but tonight let’s savor the win, slather on some extra hoisin, and zip off to bed. Happy connecting, and may your noodles—and your word ladders—never tangle!