Here at the crossword blog, we've celebrated the way in which crosswords are often quicker than dictionaries at picking up on new terms – in fact, there's a solid argument that a good benchmark of a new word's success is when a setter expects a solver to have come across it.
Escoffier's book was pure dictionary: quick reminders to clarify a point or make a variation eloquent.
Just like on other textbook platforms, you "search within a textbook for a particular word or phrase, bookmark chapters and pages, highlight and annotate key passages and get quick access to dictionaries, translation tools, Wikipedia and Google search".
Notes, highlighting, bookmarks, instant dictionary definitions, quick Wikipedia or Google lookups of a chosen word.
It then attempts to shoehorn in the metaphor of a pinball machine, whose vividness further divorces the sentence's central idea from a credible reality, and then finally, in order, I imagine, to deploy four nouns rather than three, it falls irritatingly into redundancy: brimstone and sulfur, as a quick trip to the dictionary will confirm, are synonyms.
A quick trip to Collins Dictionary confirms that, as is often the case, a new setting pseudonym conceals a collaboration between two existing virtuosi: Ateles is the spider monkey, and this was a puzzle by Arachne, sometimes known as the Spider Woman, and Monk.
A quick check of the dictionary (Webster's New Universal Unabridged 2001) provided no less than ten different meanings for the word.
A quick look at Urban Dictionary will tell you that "boofing" is a euphemism for anal sex, and a Devil's Triangle is, as we all suspected, a threesome specifically, to cite the definition, between one woman and two dudes where it's "important" not to "make eye contact".
In fact, a quick consultation with a good dictionary will reveal that most biological terms are expressions for some classification above the level of species.
