Teacher: Given a sentence, an entity and its sentiment towards the entity, verify if it is the correct sentiment towards the entity. Answer should be yes or no. Note that URLs in the text have been replaced with [Link].
Teacher: Now, understand the problem? If you are still confused, see the following example:
Verify if the sentiment of the following document towards the entity Bill Clinton is Negative. Bill Clinton knows how to win friends and influence people.
Solution: no
Reason: Here the author of the document praises Bill for this ability to win friends. So the sentiment should be Positive and not Negative.

Now, solve this instance: Verify if the sentiment of the following document towards the entity Mom is Positive . Late last week  I called my mom to get a refresher on a few of her recipes. I wanted to make rogan josh  aloo gobi (potatoes and cauliflower)  chicken biryani (chicken and rice)  and paneer with palak (spinach). But my mom  like so many Indian mothers I know  has always avoided giving me complete recipes. Even when I visit home and watch her  she somehow manages to divert my attention by  say  dangling in front of my face a gol gappa  a globe of fried wheat flour filled with chickpeas and potatoes and yogurt. Iâm always missing a spice  a cook time  a stove temperature. Iâm never clear if when she says âgingerâ she means âfresh ginger  about a pinky-size  cut into stripsâ or âginger powder  a teaspoon or two.â Or  if sheâs feeling really casual about a recipe  sheâll say  âAdd the usual spices â a mix of 5 or maybe 10 different spices that might be usual to her but are patently unclear to me. Salt? Does she just mean salt? Worse  her measurements are not based on any contemporary or commonly used metric. A teaspoon  to her  is the size of the white plastic spoon with the snapped-off handle that she uses in all of the containers in her spice drawer that originally came from Dairy Queen when I was 6 or 7 and abandoned a half-eaten Oreo Blizzard. A tablespoon  conversely  is anywhere between two or three of the âteaspoons.â A cup is the cup she uses to scoop basmati rice out of the five-gallon plastic tub in the pantry on the bottom shelf. It is unclear where the cup came from  but it is cloudy and cracked and significantly smaller than an actual cup. Every other measurement she has  then  is specific to her grocery store  to her homemade spice mixtures  to her butcher who hands her a hunk of lamb the size of a small toddler  leaving her to break it down into digestible and cookable pieces. âHow much frozen spinach do I need?â I might ask her  and she will answer  âOne.â One block  she says  as if I can go to a grocery store and say  âONE BLOCK OF YOUR FINEST FROZEN SPINACH  SIR.â I suspect some of this is intentional. Indian women â mothers  in particular â hoard some of their recipes  refusing to give them in full. So long as they are the eldest women in their families  they are the gatekeepers for these particular culinary incarnations that exist only in their kitchens. (A cursory Google search for a good chicken biryani recipe yielded ingredients like chicken stock â my mom literally screamed when I suggested this â or curry paste  something that has never once been in her kitchen.) Iâve started to do this too  refusing to give my boyfriend a complete ingredient list  even when I need help cooking  because I refuse to let him in on a secret I have been scratching at for years. Maybe itâs about making herself needed as a mother  or forcing me into coming home and beg for my favorite lotus root  a recipe specific to Kashmir that Iâve never found at a restaurant. Regional differences are lost  the little things my motherâs motherâs mother did in the kitchen get muddied â unless I ask. And I have been asking  for years  for as long as Iâve been away from home and have been trying to find my mom at the bottom of a 20-quart pot. All of this reduces my cooking to a kind of trial and error. Once  when I tried to make her rogan josh  I ended up adding three times the right amount of cinnamon; my lamb tasted like an angry ginger snap. Two years after that  she casually mentioned that youâre only supposed to use flat cinnamon sticks  and not the rolled up ones  which apparently makes a fucking difference. When I last visited  she sent me back to my home with frozen rogan josh in my suitcase. Later  when I defrosted and ate it  I picked through it  pulling out any identifiable spices I could find. At the bottom of my bowl was a dark ball the texture of soft wood. I cleaned it off and texted it to my mom with my trademark calm: â?!?!?!?!â She gave me the Hindi word for it  leaving me to creative googling to figure out what it was. (I wonât tell you; Iâve invested too much to give it up that easy.) Mom swears that sheâs not actively keeping ingredients from me  that she just forgets because cooking is so second-nature to her. This doesnât explain why sometimes sheâll add an ingredient to her list for me â a year ago  the rogan josh recipe had coriander powder in it â later saying something like  âWhy would I ever tell you to put coriander powder in it? Nothing has coriander powder in it.â Now she says itâs actually garam masala  but not the kind you buy in the store (she says this with her particular brand of derision usually reserved for âwhiteâ grocery stores) but the kind that she makes at home  fistfuls of unidentifiable brown spices hand-ground with a mortar and pestle. âI will give you some when you come home â she always says  but she is a liar  because she never actually has. Food has always been my momâs domain  so maybe it makes sense that she doesnât want to give me her trade secrets just yet.
Student:
yes