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Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

What is the overall point that the writer makes in the reading passage?

A. People should learn the history of the food they consume.

B. Criticism of industrial food production is largely misplaced

C. Modem industrial food is generally superior to raw and natural food

D. People should be more grateful for the range of foods they can now choose from.

1
13 tháng 10 2018

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Điểm tổng thể mà tác giả đưa ra trong đoạn văn là gì?

A. Mọi người nên tìm hiểu lịch sử của thực phẩm họ tiêu thụ.

B. Chủ nghĩa phê bình về sản xuất lương thực công nghiệp phần lớn không hợp lý.

C. Thức ăn công nghiệp dạng hiện đại thường được ưu tiên hơn thực phẩm thô và tự nhiên.

D. Người ta nên biết ơn nhiều loại thực phẩm họ có thể lựa chọn.

Đáp án: B

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

Which of the following is NOT an important factor mentioned in paragraphs 5 and 6?

A. the development of take-away food as an option

B. the arduous nature of food preparation before mass-production

C. the global benefits of industrialised food production

D. the range of advantages that industrialised food production had

1
5 tháng 12 2019

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Những vấn đề sau đây KHÔNG phải là một yếu tố quan trọng được nêu ra trong đoạn 5 và 6?

A. sự phát triển của thực phẩm ăn nhanh không phải là một sự bắt buộc

B. bản chất gian truân của việc chuẩn bị thức ăn trước khi sản xuất hàng loạt

C. các lợi ích toàn cầu của sản xuất lương thực công nghiệp hóa

D. có nhiều lợi thế mà sản xuất lương thực công nghiệp đã tạo ra

Đáp án: A

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

What is an important point the writer wishes to make in paragraph 7?

A. People need to have a balanced diet.

B. There are disadvantages to modem food production as well as advantages.

C. People everywhere now have a huge range of food to choose from.

D. Demand for food that is traditionally produced exploits the people that produce it.

1
16 tháng 11 2017

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Một điểm quan trọng mà nhà văn muốn nhấn mạnh trong đoạn 7 là gì?

A. Mọi người cần có một chế độ ăn uống cân bằng.

B. Có cả bất lợi và lợi thế đối với việc sản xuất lương thực.

C. Mọi người ở khắp mọi nơi hiện nay có rất nhiều loại thực phẩm để lựa chọn.

D. Nhu cầu về thực phẩm vốn được sản xuất theo truyền thống sẽ bóc lột những người sản xuất ra nó.

Dẫn chứng: If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Đáp án: D

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

Lasagna is an example of a dish ______.

A. that tastes like dishes from several other countries

B. that was only truly popular in northern Italy

C. invented by peasants

D. created for wealthy city-dwellers

1
4 tháng 8 2018

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Mì nướng là một ví dụ của một món ăn __________.

A. có vị như món ăn từ một số nước khác   B. đó chỉ thực sự phổ biến ở miền bắc nước Ý

C. phát minh bởi nông dân                   D. tạo ra cho người dân thành thị giàu có

Dẫn chứng: The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus.

Đáp án: D

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

The word “servitude” in paragraph 5 is closest in meaning to ______.

A. attitude

B. enslavement

C. capability

D. liberty

1
13 tháng 3 2017

Kiến thức: Từ vựng

Giải thích:

Từ " servitude " trong đoạn 5 có nghĩa gần nhất với_______.

servitude (n): chủ nghĩa phục vụ

attitude (n): thái độ                               enslavement (n): nô lệ

capability (n): năng lực                         liberty (n): tự do

=> servitude = enslavement

Dẫn chứng: Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude.

Đáp án: B

Dịch bài đọc:

Các phương tiện truyền thông và vô số các nhà văn viết sách nấu nướng sẽ cho chúng ta thấy rằng thực phẩm chế biến hiện đại và nhanh chóng là một thảm hoạ và đó là một dấu ấn của sự tinh tế để khi luôn than vãn về nhà máy cán thép và bánh mì trắng cắt lát trong khi muốn bột mì và một lò nung gạch. Có lẽ, chúng ta nên gọi chúng là thực phẩm khốn khổ, những người thổ dân ẩm thực, sau khi công nhân người Anh thế kỷ 19 nổi dậy chống lại  máy móc phá hủy cuộc sống của họ. Thay vì công nghệ, những gì được tạo ra nước sốt thương mại  và bất kỳ viện trợ tổng hợp để tạo hương vị thực phẩm của chúng ta

Ăn thực phẩm tự nhiên tươi giờ đây được coi là đáng nghi ngờ; chỉ có những người ít văn minh, người nghèo, và những người đói khát sử dụng nó. Người Hy Lạp cổ đại coi việc tiêu thụ rau xanh và rau củ là dấu hiệu của thời kỳ xấu, và nhiều nền văn minh thành công khác cũng tin tưởng như vậy. Hạnh phúc không phải là một khu vườn tươi tắn bao trùm trái cây tươi, mà làmột kho chứa những thực phẩm chế biến được bảo quản.

Vậy còn ý tường về việc thức ăn tốt nhất được tự làm bằng tay thì sao? Thực phẩm đó đến từ đất nước ta không cần biết. Tuy nhiên, ý tưởng cho rằng người dân ở nước này ăn ngon hơn người dân thành phố là điều không hay. Rất ít tổ tiên của chúng ta làm việc trên mảnh đất này là những nông dân độc lập nướng bánh mì của chính họ và tự giết lợn của họ. Hầu hết đều bị áp lực gánh nặng thuế và tiền thuê, thường được trả trực tiếp bởi thực phẩm mà họ sản xuất. Nhiều người là nô lệ, những người sống sót bằng những gì còn sót lại; súp nước và bột thừa

Các món ăn mà chúng ta gọi là struyền thống và giả định có nguồn gốc nông dân được phát minh ra cho những người quý tộc thành thị, hoặc ít ra là những người quý tộc thuần thục thu thập được thặng dư. Điều này cũng đúng với món mì nướng ở miền bắc nước Ý vì nó làm từ gà korma của Delhi Mughal, thịt lợn mèo của đế quốc Trung Quốc, và món cơm cơm thập cẩm cùng bánh tráng miệng của cung điện tuyệt vời Ottoman ở Istanbul. Các thành phố luôn thưởng thức những món ăn ngon và luôn là những điểm nhấn của sự đổi mới ẩm thực.

Chuẩn bị bữa sáng, bữa tối và trà nấu chín cho gia đình có tám đến mười người 365 ngày một năm là sự hi sinh. Đun sôi bơ hoặc lau dọn da và thỏ, không có tùy chọn pizza đặt qua điện thoại, nếu có chuyện gì đó đã xảy ra, không cần phải than vãn. Cách đây không lâu, ở Mêhicô, hầu hết phụ nữ có thể mong đợi dành 5 giờ mỗi ngày để mài chuẩn bị bột làm bánh tortillas cho gia đình.

Trong nửa đầu của thế kỷ 20, người Ý đã chấp nhận mì ống sản xuất trong nhà máy và cà chua đóng hộp. Trong nửasau thế kỉ, phụ nữ Nhật Bản chào đón bánh mì do nhà máy chế biến bởi vì họ có thể ngủ lâu hơn là đi lên để làm gạo. Khi các siêu thị xuất hiện ở Đông Âu, mọi người vui mừng vì sự tiện lợi của hàng hoá đã được chuẩn bị sẵn. Chủ nghĩa hiện đại ẩm thực đã chứng minh điều gì đã được mong muốn: thực phẩm đã được chế biến,

bảo quản, công nghiệp, và nhanh chóng, thực phẩm của giới thượng lưuvới giá mà mọi người có thể mua được. Nơi có thức ăn hiện đại, mọi người lớn lên và mạnh mẽ hơn và sống lâu hơn.

Vì vậy, quá khứ huy honafh của người dân ẩm thực không bao giờ tồn tại và phong cách của họ không dựa trên lịch sử nhưng trên một câu chuyện cổ tích. Vậy cái gì? Chắc chắn không ai phủ nhận rằng việc cung cấp lương thực công nghiệp có những vấn đề riêng. Có lẽ chúng ta nên ăn nhiều hơn thức ăn tự nhiên, nguồn gốc địa phương, hay còn gọi là thực phẩm ăn chậm. Có vấn đề gì nếu lịch sử không hoàn toàn đúng? Có một chút thôi, tôi tin thế. Nếu chúng ta không hiểu rằng hầu hết mọi người không có sự lựa chọn nào khác ngoài việc dành cả cuộc sống để trồng và nấu ăn, chúng ta không thể hiểu được rằng thức ăn hiện đại cho phép chúng ta lựa chọn vô song. Nếu chúng ta thúc giục người nông dân ở lại với vườn ô liu của mình và bà nội trợ để ở lại bếp của cô ta, tất cả để chúng ta có thể ăn dầu ô liu ép và các bữa ăn tự chế biến. Nếu chúng ta không hiểu được chế độ ăn kiêng truyền thống ì ạch và đơn điệu như thế nào, chúng ta không đánh giá cao 'thực phẩm dân tộc' mà chúng ta gặp phải.

Tuy nhiên, những người dân ẩm thực thực sự mang hai điều quan trọng: Chúng ta cần biết cách nấu thức ăn ngon, và chúng ta cần một cảm quan về ẩm thực. Về thực phẩm tốt, họ đã dạy chúng ta cách sử dụng đồng tiền trong nền kinh tế. Tuy nhiên, tính cách của họ là một vấn đề khác. Nếu chúng ta có thể quay lại thời gian, khi họ vội vã, hầu hết chúng ta sẽ phải làm việc cả ngày trên các cánh đồng hoặc nhà bếp, và nhiều người trong chúng ta sẽ phải chết đói.

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

The word “preposterous” in paragraph 3 is closest in meaning to ______.

A. sensible

B. popular

C. ridiculous

D. right

1
3 tháng 11 2017

Kiến thức: Từ vựng

Giải thích:

Từ " preposterous " trong đoạn 3 có nghĩa gần nhất với ___________.

preposterous (a): táo bạo, phi lý

sensible (a): hợp lý                                popular (a): phổ biến

ridiculous (a): vô lý                              right (a): đúng

=> preposterous = ridiculous

Dẫn chứng: However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous.

Đáp án: C

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

What does the writer say about peasants?

A. They created imaginative soup and flatbread dishes

B. Much of what they produced went to a landowner.

C. They were largely self-sufficient

D. They had a better diet than most people living in cities.

1
17 tháng 10 2019

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Nhà văn viết gì về người nông dân?

A. Họ tạo ra món canh súp trí tưởng tượng và các món ăn bằng bánh mì.

B. Phần lớn những gì họ tạo ra đều được đưa đến chỗ nhà chủ

C. Họ phần lớn đều tự cung tự cấp

D. Họ có chế độ ăn uống tốt hơn so với hầu hết mọi người sống ở các thành phố.

Dẫn chứng: Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

Đáp án: B

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.THE PRAISE OF FAST FOODThe media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food,...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C, or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions from 35 to 42.

THE PRAISE OF FAST FOOD

The media and a multitude of cookbook writers would have us believe that modern, fast, processed food is a disaster, and that it is a mark of sophistication to bemoan the steel roller mill and sliced white bread while yearning for stone-ground flour and a brick oven. Perhaps, we should call those scorn industrialised food, culinary Luddites, after the 19th-century English workers who rebelled against the machines that destroyed their way of life. Instead of technology, what these Luddites abhor is commercial sauces and any synthetic aid to flavouring our food.

Eating fresh, natural food was regarded with suspicion verging on horror; only the uncivilised, the poor, and the starving resorted to it. The ancient Greeks regarded the consumption of greens and root vegetables as a sign of bad times, and many succeeding civilizations believed the same. Happiness was not a verdant garden abounding in fresh fruits, but a securely locked storehouse jammed with preserved, processed foods.

What about the idea that the best food is handmade in the country? That food comes from the country goes without saying. However, the idea that country people eat better than city dwellers is preposterous. Very few of our ancestors working the land were independent peasants baking their own bread and salting down their own pig. Most were burdened with heavy taxes and rent, often paid directly by the food they produced. Many were ultimately serfs or slaves, who subsisted on what was left over; on watery soup and gritty flatbread.

The dishes we call ethnic and assume to be of peasant origin were invented for the urban, or at least urbane, aristocrats who collected the surplus. This is as true of the lasagna of northern Italy as it is of the chicken korma of Mughal Delhi, the moo shu pork of imperial China, and the pilafs and baklava of the great Ottoman palace in Istanbul. Cities have always enjoyed the best food and have invariably been the focal points of culinary innovation.

Preparing home-cooked breakfast, dinner, and tea for eight to ten people 365 days a year was servitude. Churning butter or skinning and cleaning rabbits, without the option of picking up the phone for a pizza if something went wrong, was unremitting, unforgiving toil. Not long ago, in Mexico, most women could expect to spend five hours a day kneeling at the grindstone preparing the dough for the family's tortillas.

In the first half of the 20th century, Italians embraced factory-made pasta and canned tomatoes. In the second half, Japanese women welcomed factory-made bread because they could sleep a little longer instead of getting up to make rice. As supermarkets appeared in Eastern Europe, people rejoiced at the convenience of readymade goods. Culinary modernism had proved what was wanted: food that was processed, preservable, industrial, novel, and fast, the food of the elite at a price everyone could afford. Where modern food became available, people grew taller and stronger and lived longer.

So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems. Perhaps we should eat more fresh, natural, locally sourced, slow food. Does it matter if the history is not quite right? It matters quite a bit, I believe. If we do not understand that most people had no choice but to devote their lives to growing and cooking food, we are incapable of comprehending that modern food allows us unparalleled choices. If we urge the farmer to stay at his olive press and the housewife to remain at her stove, all so that we may eat traditionally pressed olive oil and home-cooked meals, we are assuming the mantle of the aristocrats of old. If we fail to understand how scant and monotonous most traditional diets were, we fail to appreciate the 'ethnic foods' we encounter.

Culinary Luddites are right, though, about two important things: We need to know how to prepare good food, and we need a culinary ethos. As far as good food goes, they've done us all a service by teaching us how to use the bounty delivered to us by the global economy. Their ethos, though, is another matter. Were we able to turn back the clock, as they urge, most of us would be toiling all day in the fields or the kitchen, and many of us would be starving.

The word “its” in paragraph 7 refers to ______.

A. food supply’s

B. fairy tale’s

C. history’s

D. sunlit past’s

1
10 tháng 1 2017

Kiến thức: Đọc hiểu

Giải thích:

Từ "its" trong đoạn 7 đề cập đến          .

A. cung cấp lương thực                         B. câu chuyện cổ tích

C. lịch sử                                              D. quá khứ huy hoàng

Dẫn chứng: So the sunlit past of the culinary Luddites never existed and their ethos is based not on history but on a fairy tale. So what? Certainly no one would deny that an industrialised food supply has its own problems.

Đáp án: A

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the following questions.Long ago prehistoric man began to domesticate a number of wild plants and animals for his own use. This not only provided a more abundant food source but also allowed more people to live on a smaller plot of ground. We tend to forget that all of our present-day pets, livestock, and food plants were taken from the wild and developed into the forms we...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the following questions.

Long ago prehistoric man began to domesticate a number of wild plants and animals for his own use. This not only provided a more abundant food source but also allowed more people to live on a smaller plot of ground. We tend to forget that all of our present-day pets, livestock, and food plants were taken from the wild and developed into the forms we know today.

As centuries passed and human cultures evolved and blossomed, humans began to organise their knowledge of nature into the broad field of natural history. One aspect of early natural history concerned the use of plants for drugs and medicine. The early herbalists sometimes overworked their imaginations in this respect. For example, it was widely believed that a plant or part of a plant that resembles an internal organ would cure ailments of that organ. Thus, an extract made from a heartshaped leaf might be prescribed for a person suffering from heart problems.

Nevertheless, the overall contributions of these early observers provided the rudiments of our present knowledge of drugs and their uses.

An herbalist is which of the following?

A. A dreamer

B. An early historian

C. Someone who uses plants in medicine

D. A farmer

1
4 tháng 12 2018

Chọn C

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the following questions. Long ago prehistoric man began to domesticate a number of wild plants and animals for his own use. This not only provided a more abundant food source but also allowed more people to live on a smaller plot of ground. We tend to forget that all of our present-day pets, livestock, and food plants were taken from the wild and developed into the forms we...
Đọc tiếp

Read the following passage and mark the letter A, B, C or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the following questions.

Long ago prehistoric man began to domesticate a number of wild plants and animals for his own use. This not only provided a more abundant food source but also allowed more people to live on a smaller plot of ground. We tend to forget that all of our present-day pets, livestock, and food plants were taken from the wild and developed into the forms we know today.

As centuries passed and human cultures evolved and blossomed, humans began to organise their knowledge of nature into the broad field of natural history. One aspect of early natural history concerned the use of plants for drugs and medicine. The early herbalists sometimes overworked their imaginations in this respect. For example, it was widely believed that a plant or part of a plant that resembles an internal organ would cure ailments of that organ. Thus, an extract made from a heartshaped leaf might be prescribed for a person suffering from heart problems.

Nevertheless, the overall contributions of these early observers provided the rudiments of our present knowledge of drugs and their uses.

An herbalist is which of the following?

A. A dreamer

B. An early historian

C. Someone who uses plants in medicine

D. A farmer

1
27 tháng 1 2018

C

Nhà thảo dược trong đoạn văn là_______

A. một người mơ mộng
B. một sử gia
C. một người sử dụng các thực vật trong y học
D. một người nông dân.

Dẫn chứng: One aspect of early natural history concerned the use of plants for drugs and medicine. The early herbalists sometimes overworked their imaginations in this respect. 

Tạm dịch Một khía cạnh của lịch sử tự nhiên ban đầu liên quan đến việc sử dụng thực vật cho thuốc và thuốc. Các nhà thảo dược ban đầu đôi khi làm việc quá sức tưởng tượng của họ về mặt này.

Đáp án: C

Dịch bài

Từ lâu, người tiền sử đã bắt đầu thuần hóa một số loài thực vật và động vật hoang dã để sử dụng cho riêng mình. Điều này không chỉ cung cấp nhiều thực phẩm phong phú hơn mà còn cho phép nhiều người hơn sống trên một mảnh đất nhỏ hơn. Chúng ta có xu hướng quên rằng tất cả các vật nuôi, vật nuôi và thực phẩm ngày nay của chúng ta đã được lấy từ tự nhiên và phát triển thành các hình thức mà chúng ta biết ngày nay.

Khi nhiều thế kỷ trôi qua và nền văn hóa của loài người phát triển và nở rộ, con người bắt đầu tổ chức kiến ​​thức về tự nhiên của họ vào lĩnh vực rộng lớn của lịch sử tự nhiên. Một khía cạnh của lịch sử tự nhiên ban đầu liên quan đến việc sử dụng thực vật cho thuốc và thuốc. Các nhà thảo dược ban đầu đôi khi làm việc quá sức tưởng tượng của họ về mặt này. Ví dụ, người ta tin rằng một loại cây hoặc một phần của cây giống với một cơ quan nội tạng sẽ chữa khỏi bệnh của cơ quan đó, do đó, một chiết xuất từ ​​lá hình trái tim có thể được quy định cho một người bị bệnh tim.

Tuy nhiên, những đóng góp chung của những nhà quan sát ban đầu này đã cung cấp những kiến ​​thức sơ bộ về kiến ​​thức hiện tại của chúng ta về thuốc và cách sử dụng chúng.