The sudden burst of spring produce in the market after a long, monotonous winter of cavolo nero and bright oranges is one of the things that constantly reminds me why I love living and eating in Italy. A wander through the market like any other becomes, in spring time, a new experience. I feel like a fresh arrival, like it's my first time walking through my local market. There are long, twisty fava bean pods, waiting to be podded and munched on with bitey pecorino cheese to tame the bitterness of the raw beans. Thin, long-stemmed asparagus. A lovely array of greens, including radishes with leaves so happy that they become the main ingredient, fluffy-fronded fresh herbs and fresh garlic. Artichokes of many different kinds, but especially the pointed purple ones that are either local, from Tuscany's Maremma, or sometimes from Puglia or Sicily. Rarely the rounded globe artichokes you find spilling out of crates in Rome, or the tiny, delicate Venetian ones, the so-called castraure (though they often aren't the real deal, how you can tell is by the price) that you can find in the shadow of the Rialto. And then there are thick bunches of agretti (salsola soda), looking more like mermaid's hair than a monk's beard, their English namesake. A few years ago, this wasn't such a common sight at the market in Florence. It still isn't, in that you won't get them by the crateful like you do fava beans and artichokes, though they're not particularly difficult to find now. They're just one of those special things that don't last long. Blink and you'll miss them, or come late to the market and they could easily be sold out. It's worth getting up and out of the house a little earlier for these (a note to myself, of course). If you've never tasted agretti before, it's worth seeking out if you're in the right place at the right time and find a bunch or see it on a menu. Frances Mayes likens it to spinach, but notes that it is so much more, "While agretti has the mineral sharpness of spinach, it tastes livelier, full of the energy... Question: When did the narrator see Monk's beard? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- In Rome.
- not enough information
- In the spring
- In the winter

Answer: In the spring

Problem: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Because Little Bit has to use the toilet
- Because of the fish in Grandpa Abner's book
- Because Ma asked if the speaker was off the toilet
Q: I woke at dawn when Digger climbed over me to get out of bed, and I woke again an hour later when Pa called, "Everyone up who wants breakfast!" Across the room, Little Bit was dressing in a T-shirt and jeans that had been mine a year before. Ma had put a stack of clean clothes at the foot of the bed for me. I dressed without caring what I put on. The only important items were my cowboy boots and my Roy Rogers belt with two holsters for cap guns, even though I only had one cap gun left, and its trigger was broken. When I used the toilet, I sat on the front edge of the seat, watching the water beneath me, and scooted off as soon as I was done. I had seen a cartoon in a book at Grandpa Abner's that showed a fish leaping out of a toilet bowl and a woman staring at it with big eyes. I thought that was funny and I knew it was impossible, but I didn't think there was any reason to take chances. Ma called, "Little Bit has to use the bathroom." I yelled, "I'm almost done." Ma called, "Are you off the toilet?" I yelled, "Yes!" Ma opened the door and brought Little Bit in. Squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I said, "I wasn't done yet." Ma said, "Your father's making breakfast in the restaurant." That meant we should hurry, so I slid the brush over my teeth while Little Bit sat next to the sink, and then I ran out of the house. Stepping into the sunlight was stepping into Florida. I didn't smell oranges -- Ma had explained that oranges grew further south -- but I smelled a humid pinelands that was not like the New Orleans suburb I had known. Question: Why does the speaker sit on the edge of the toilet? === The answer to the above question is
Answer: Because of the fish in Grandpa Abner's book

input with options: We live our lives online, so naturally, online dating is becoming our primary source of meeting others. I have been on most dating sites and some are good, some not so much. Tinder remains on the top five dating sites out there, so I'm sharing my personal experience. THE TRUTH ABOUT TINDER Did you like me on Tinder? If you are a man in my geographical area, odds are you did. The first week I joined I received over 400 likes and nothing speaks desperation like that, does it? If I want to hook up and leave, there's no better place to go. If you're going to Tinder looking for a real connection, then sorry you've lost your damn mind. Tinder was created with the hit and quit it hookup in mind and trust me no matter what he puts in his profile, that's what he's looking for. Crap, that's what I was looking for let's be honest. Here are some universal truths about Tinder and most online dating sites. If the picture looks too good to be true, it probably is. People lie. A large majority are going to be married pretending to be single. They have a handful of others on the hook while they're talking to you. The usual way it goes on Tinder is you like someone's picture and if they like you back, you're a match. Then you can message each other and often you will get one or two messages and that's it unless you come out strong on the sexting and I guarantee you get your man. Tinder is oozing with low attention spans. I can pretty much guarantee he is going to ask for pictures, and not of your face. Question: What were the women on Tinder looking for? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- a real relationship
- hit and quit it
- a match in order to send messages only
- not enough information
output:
not enough information