When I was writing the manuscript for Florentine, I enlisted the help of an army of recipe testers about 80 people from all over the world to test every recipe thoroughly. Only one came back to me consistently with problems. From Minnesota to Melbourne, three testers wrote to me that their very first attempt at making Tuscan gnudi (ricotta and spinach balls that, rather than be encased in pasta like for ravioli, are simply dusted in flour) resulted in a pot of simmering water with "dissolved" gnudi. It reminded me of Pellegrino Artusi's potato gnocchi recipe in his famous cookbook from 1891, where he interrupts the recipe instructions to mention a signora who, upon attempting to stir the gnocchi cooking in the pot, finds they have disappeared O dove'erano andati? "Where did they go?" In the case of the gnocchi, there was too little flour used, according to Artusi. But in the case of the gnudi, I already had a hunch. I grilled all three testers on a number of various factors was the water just simmering, not on a rolling boil (which can destroy delicate gnudi), did they drain the spinach very well, and equally the ricotta (one said she even drained it overnight)? Did they use "proper" ricotta? Aha. "Proper" ricotta. The kind that was only made a day or so earlier, the leftovers of the cheese-making process, the real deal. The kind that you can see in a deli counter, standing on its own, that gets cut into a big wedge and weighed when you order it. Not the kind you buy at the supermarket, in a tub, that so often is grainy, more like the consistency of yogurt, has no structure, and is full of unnecessary gums or additives. All my recipe testers had used the second kind to be fair, some were new to the idea of buying ricotta and in their neighbourhood only had access to this. In that case, it would have probably been better to make your own, or choose another recipe. Who was new to the idea of buying ricotta from a deli? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. The recipe testers C. The author of the article D. Pellegrino Artusi
B

When Patch finally found his way out of the seed-pod, Toro was gone, and there were rats all around him. Some hid beneath the huge black seed-pods, some scuttled in the shadows of the nearby mountain. Patch knew from their smells there were at least a dozen of them. There was another smell too, mixed with that of the rats. The very same unsavory squirrel-smell he had detected in Silver's abandoned drey. "What do you want?" Patch asked, from his perch atop the mound of seed-pods. He was concerned but not yet frightened. Rats and squirrels were neither friends nor enemies. Squirrels were bigger and stronger, but rats were far more numerous. There were legends of long-ago wars between the two species, but no squirrel Patch knew had ever been attacked by rats. Squirrels lived aboveground, in the sun; rats frequented the night and the dark underworld. Of course, squirrels found rats disgusting and disagreeable -- but so did all other animals. An unusually large rat climbed up to the top of a seed-pod. It was almost as big as Patch himself. Rats usually avoided light, but this one stood unafraid beneath the sun, and demanded: "Who are you?" "I am Patch son of Silver, of the Seeker clan, of the Treetops tribe, of the Center Kingdom," Patch said. "Who are you that asks?" "I am Snout," the rat replied. "Why are you here?" "I came to look for food." "This is our food. These mountains are ours." "Your food?" Patch asked, bewildered. There was no ownership of food in the Center Kingdom, not until it had actually been eaten. "That's ridiculous. It's food. It belongs to whoever finds it first." "Then you belong to us," Snout hissed. "Because we are the rats who will suck the marrow from your broken bones." Patch would rather: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. Fight with Snout B. not enough information C. Avoid light D. Find food
D

"So, Jenny tells me jury selection is going well," said Buford, puffing small billows of Cuban cigar smoke into the phone with each syllable. "Yes, I think so too." Kyle was speeding down FM-2208 in his new Lexus SC 430, headed toward Coreyville. He could barely make his lease payments, but he had to have that car. It screamed success-- especially with the top down. His wavy head of hair would be easily restored to perfection with a few brush strokes. "Well, you be sure to take her advice. She knows how to pick a jury." Buford figured some of Kyle's attention would be focused on getting Jenny into bed, but he didn't think it would jeopardize the case. "Don't worry, Mr. Bellowin, I will." At only 27, Kyle Serpentine had already developed a successful practice in Longview, defending every kind of crook. Some of them paid handsomely. He idolized Buford Bellowin. Buford had grown up in Coreyville and earned his Bachelor's and Law degree at University of Texas, graduating near the top of his class. Now he was a high-priced, infamous defense attorney headquartered in Dallas. Nicknamed 'The Bell', he had never lost a case. Even in law school, his mock trial team always won. And Buford put on a show in the courtroom. So, the gallery was always packed with those who wanted to see The Bell in action. Occasionally, some hotshot would think he could outsmart him. But Buford was the teacher, and it was his classroom. Before the prosecutor knew what hit him, The Bell would ring, and school was out. "The D.A. really thought she could get a jury out of that pool of forty, didn't she? She thought this was gonna be a cakewalk. They don't get many murder trials in Coreyville. That's good for us. And she'll make more mistakes. Mark my words." Why does Kyle drive a fancy car? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. It makes him look successful. B. not enough information C. It is not his car D. It gets him where he needs to go.
A