Problem:OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- 4 hours
- overnight
- 10 minutes

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. Question: How long do you need to drain the spinach and ricotta? === The answer to the above question is
****
A: 10 minutes

Earlier this week, @naval (CEO and co-founder of AngelList) asked a question on Twitter: "The challenge of the next decade is not Artificial Intelligence, but Human Intelligence. Can we retrain the workforce as knowledge workers?"" At the heart of his question is an interesting observation. As automation and artificial intelligence replaces manual jobs, how do we retrain people in the new knowledge economy where information handling and management is in high demand? I thought I would share some experiences, observations, and recommendations based upon when I did this previously in my career. Back in 2004 I was peddling my wares as a journalist, writing for the tech press. I was living in the West Midlands in England and heard about a new organization in nearby Birmingham called OpenAdvantage. The premise was neat: open source was becoming a powerful force in technology and OpenAdvantage was set up to provide free consultancy for companies wanting to harness open source, as well as individuals who wanted to upskill in these new technologies. At the time in the West Midlands lots of industry was being automated and moved out to Asia, so lots of Midlanders were out of jobs and looking to retrain. This required, by definition, retaining the workforce as knowledge workers. OpenAdvantage was funded by the UK government and the University of Central England, had a decent war chest, and was founded by Scott Thompon and Paul Cooper (the latter of which I met when he heckled me at a talk I gave at a Linux User Group once. 🙂 ) So, I went along to their launch event and wrote a piece about them. Shortly after, Paul and Scott invited me back over to the office and offered me a job there as an open source consultant. I took the role, and this is where I cut my teeth on a lot of open source, community, and working with businesses. We had crazy targets to hit each month, so we ended up working with and training hundreds of organizations and individuals across a wide range of areas, and covering a wide berth of open source... Question: After reading the Tweet, what year did the author recall as a journalist. === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- 2004
- 1994
- 2016
2004

Problem: OPTIONS:
- After noticing the camera.
- not enough information
- Before approaching wearhouse.
- After being denied entry.
Q: I showed up at the address on Columbine's invitation just before eleven; it was a converted warehouse in an industrial zone on the city's north side. Since it was a Saturday night, everything else was empty for miles. The parking lot was filled with sports cars, hybrids, and shiny suburban tanks. The door facing the parking lot was open, spilling out muted lights and the din of yuppie chatter. It cast a somewhat foreboding aura over the entrance. The first thing I noticed as I approached was the beefy refrigerator in a rented tux blocking the doorway. The second thing was the surveillance camera perched on the wall above his head. I had stopped home and changed first, so I was sure I was dressed mostly appropriately for some rich faux-hipster art party - charcoal gray pinstripe jacket over a TV on the Radio t-shirt, skinny cuffed jeans, Docs, and a black fedora. I certainly didn't look any worse than the other idiots I saw filing in and out of the door. I even had an invitation. So I was fairly confident I'd be able to gain admission to this thing without incident. "No, absolutely not," the doorman said, pressing a meaty palm into my chest. "I was invited!" I said, exasperated. "I have documentation." I waved the rave card in front of his face. "No dice." I stepped aside to let a couple of aging goths through the door and wondered for a moment if the doorman somehow knew who I was. Then I noticed the ear piece he was wearing and my eyes darted back to the surveillance camera. "Motherfucker," I spat and raised both arms to flip off the camera. I didn't know it at the time, but at that moment Dylan Maxwell was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, laughing his ass off. Question: When did the narrator notice the doorman's ear piece? === The answer to the above question is
Answer:
After being denied entry.