All in all, a fairly nice day yesterday.  Charlie arrived before we got to eating, which was nice, but not early enough that we could watch a dvd before dinner.  Luckily Emily has a lot to say and she was a wonderful hostess, keeping him entertained by showing him her portfolio and talking about school, etc.  I had to laugh at one point.  When it got to be close to 5 Charlie asked for an update on the ETA of the food, and at that point I thought everything would be ready by 5 and that's what I told him.  So at ten of, he announced he was going for a bathroom break and then a smoke break and when he came back "there will be food".  Oh yeah, like he was cooking it, and he knew.  So I guess I hurried things a bit and the asparagus ended up a little underdone.  It only needed a couple of minutes more and it would have been perfect, but for some reason I didn't assert myself.  Stupid of me.  However, the turkey was perfect, the biryani yummy, the demi glace was blissful, the sweet potatoes sublime, and most of the asparagus was delightfully al dente.  I hate overdone veggies so if I'm gonna goof up one way, that's the way to go.  So we're sitting at the table and Charlie says, I realize this is sacreligious, but can I microwave this asparagus a little?  I said sure, he took his plate out and put the stuff on it and zapped it, and I advised him to steer clear of the lower ends if he was in need of something more tender.
ONE THING I DID NOT DO HOWEVER: I didn't apologize for the veggie being as it was.  Ray and I have a standing joke between us.  My mother used to cook a large meal for everyone then tell us all how bad it was.  It reached the point where Ray and I would look at each other and say or mouth silently, "Joan" (as in, "of Arc")because Mom was generally self-immolating, she was so extreme in her condemnation of her food.  We said it was like she'd put her achievements down so that nobody else could do so, and so that we'd all feel obliged to contradict her and say, oh no Mom, it's wonderful.  It was as if she didn't feel confidant enough in her skills to trust that she was doing good things, so she had to force us into praising her this way.  Weird.  Very insecure, manipulative person.  The funniest point was the holiday meal we met my parents for in a restaurant renowned for its decor.  Big fire roaring in a stonefaced fireplace, bookshelves crammed with books used as room dividers.  Over my head, Ray caught sight of, you guessed it, a book about Joan of Arc.  We giggled ourselves silly through the rest of the meal.
The other thing Charlie did about my food is he passed up having a sweet potato, which I had simply baked at the same time as the turkey, then served with a sauce made of mayo, olive oil, and garlic.  At least he said no when I offered it to him in the kitchen, yet by the time we sat down at the table, he'd (sort of) changed his mind and started mooching some of Ray's.  My sweetie gave it to him, but reiterated that there was more in the kitchen, and later went back for more himself.  Sigh.  Charlie had no trouble, however, scarfing a lot of the biryani.  He eats a lot of restaurant food, having never really learned to cook much himself, and all those carbs probably seemed most familiar to him.
Emily, I must say, ate with us at the table (a rare occurance) and ate turkey and biryani.  When Charlie went out to recook his asparagus, she reached over and held my hand for a moment.  She knew what I was feeling, and her gesture was very sweet.