The New York Times Games app has a way of making you feel like a genius at 8:00 AM and a total failure by 8:05 AM. It usually starts with Wordle. Then maybe the Mini Crossword. But the real friction—the kind that leads to frantic group chat debates and angry Twitter (X) threads—usually happens in the Connections grid. Specifically, people keep getting hung up on synonyms that feel just slightly off. Recently, a specific cluster of words has been making the rounds: gusto passion zest nyt puzzles often use these high-energy descriptors to trap players who think too linearly.
If you’ve ever stared at those sixteen little squares and felt like the editor, Wyna Liu, was personally trying to ruin your morning, you aren't alone.
The Language of Energy in NYT Connections
Language is messy. That’s the whole point of Connections. When you see words like "gusto," "passion," and "zest," your brain immediately wires them together under the umbrella of "enthusiasm." It makes sense. You eat with gusto. You live with passion. You have a zest for life. In a vacuum, they are practically interchangeable. But in the world of the NYT puzzle, synonyms are rarely the actual answer. They’re the bait.
The gusto passion zest nyt crossover is a classic example of what puzzle fans call a "red herring." The game thrives on overlapping categories. One word might belong to a group of "Enthusiasm," while another actually belongs to "Things you find in a kitchen" (Zest) or "Software companies" (Gusto).
It’s frustrating. Really frustrating. But it’s also why the game is a massive hit.
Why our brains fail at these specific synonyms
Most of us read at a scanning pace. We don't analyze every syllable; we look for patterns. When you see "passion," you might also see "fruit" elsewhere on the board. Suddenly, "passion" isn't an emotion anymore—it's half of a tropical snack. If "zest" is there too, you're looking for "lemon" or "grater." This shifting of definitions is where the difficulty lies.
The NYT doesn't just want you to know what a word means. They want to see if you can forget what it means long enough to see its other identities.
Honestly, it’s a bit of a psychological trick. You’ve got a limited number of mistakes. The pressure is on. You see three words that mean "excitement" and you desperately search for the fourth. Maybe it's "fire." Maybe it's "spirit." You click. One away. The dread sinks in.
The Evolution of the NYT Digital Gaming Suite
It’s worth looking at how we got here. The New York Times didn't start as a gaming powerhouse. For decades, it was just the Crossword—the gold standard of intellectual prestige. But then the digital shift happened. They bought Wordle from Josh Wardle in early 2022 for a low seven-figure sum. That changed everything.
Connections launched in beta in mid-2023. It was different. It wasn't about spelling or vocabulary as much as it was about lateral thinking. It feels more like the British show Only Connect, which is notoriously difficult.
The inclusion of words like gusto passion zest nyt in these puzzles reflects a specific editorial style. Wyna Liu has mentioned in interviews that she looks for words with multiple meanings (polysemy) or words that can be part of a compound phrase.
- Gusto: A brand of payroll software? Or Italian for taste?
- Zest: Part of a citrus peel? Or a brand of soap?
- Passion: A religious reference? Or just a strong liking for something?
When you realize that "Gusto" and "Zest" are both brands of soap or household products, the "Enthusiasm" category falls apart. That's the "Aha!" moment the editors are chasing.
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How to Beat the Red Herrings
If you want to stop losing your streak to these types of traps, you have to change your physical approach to the screen. Stop clicking the first four words you see. Just stop.
The best players—the ones who post those perfect "no-mistake" grids—usually spend the first two minutes doing nothing but staring. They look for the "spoilers." A spoiler is a word that could fit in two or three places. If you see "zest," don't assume it means energy. Assume it’s a trap. Look for its cousins. Is there a "tange" or a "peel"? Is there a "Dial" or an "Ivory"?
The "One Away" Trap
The "One Away" message is the most dangerous part of the gusto passion zest nyt experience. It’s a dopamine hit mixed with a lie. It tells you you’re close, which makes you want to swap just one word and try again.
Don't do it.
If you get a "One Away" on a group of synonyms, the word you’re missing is probably not another synonym. It’s likely a word that looks completely different but shares a hidden link. Or, even more likely, one of the words you did pick belongs to a much harder category you haven't even seen yet.
Real World Examples of Tricky Groupings
Let’s look at how these words have actually functioned in the past. In various puzzles, we've seen categories like:
- Words that mean "Enthusiasm": Fire, Passion, Spirit, Zeal.
- Brands of Soap: Coast, Dial, Ivory, Zest.
- Six-Letter Words ending in O: Combo, Gusto, Pharoah (misspelled often!), Psycho.
If you had "Gusto," "Passion," "Zest," and "Fire" on the same board, you are in for a bad time. You have to isolate the most "unique" word first. "Gusto" is rarer than "Fire." Start there.
The Culture of the Daily Puzzle
There’s a reason we care about this. It isn't just a game; it’s a social currency. When you share those colored squares on your Instagram story, you’re signaling something. You’re part of a global ritual.
The frustration with gusto passion zest nyt clues is part of the fun. It gives us something to complain about at the proverbial water cooler. When the puzzle is too easy, it’s boring. When it’s "unfair," it’s a conversation starter.
Experts in linguistics, like those often quoted in Language Log, suggest that the NYT Games succeed because they balance "crystallized intelligence" (stuff you know) with "fluid intelligence" (how you solve new problems). Connections leans heavily on the fluid side. It’s testing your brain’s ability to pivot.
Actionable Tips for Your Next Grid
Stop treating Connections like a vocabulary test. It’s a logic puzzle wearing a vocabulary mask.
First, identify the outliers. Words like "Gusto" are less common in daily speech than "Passion." If an uncommon word has a very specific secondary meaning (like a brand name or a specific industry term), that is almost always the intended path.
Second, use the "Shuffle" button. It’s there for a reason. Our brains get stuck in "spatial ruts." If "Zest" is sitting right next to "Passion," your brain will insist they are related. Shuffling the board breaks those visual associations and lets you see new patterns.
Third, count the potential groups. Before you submit, try to find at least three viable groups. If you can only find one, you are probably falling for a red herring. The puzzle is designed so that at least eight words could fit into a single "obvious" category. Your job is to find the four that don't fit anywhere else.
Finally, walk away. If you’re down to your last two lives and you’re staring at "gusto" and "zest" wondering why nothing works, put the phone down. Have a coffee. Look at a tree. When you come back, you might suddenly realize that "Zest" is just a soap and "Gusto" is just a payroll company, and the whole "passion" thing was a total distraction.
The NYT games are designed to be solved, but they aren't designed to be easy. Respect the trap, and you might actually beat it.
To improve your daily performance, start keeping a mental (or physical) note of recurring "tricky" categories. The NYT loves certain themes:
- Words that are also names of planets.
- Words that are also brands of cars.
- Words that follow a specific prefix (like "S" or "Un").
- Palindromes or words that are other words spelled backward.
Once you start seeing the "meta" of the game, words like gusto passion zest nyt become much less intimidating. You'll see them for what they are: the seasoning on a much more complex dish. Get back in there and try again tomorrow. The grid resets at midnight, and everyone starts back at zero. Even the geniuses.