Christmas dinner. It gets me every time, y'all. Well, it's gotten me for the past 4 years, at least. The whole process begins when my glossy Bon Appetit arrives in the mail, because I still believe in the revival of print magazines. Then, I take a look at all of the various articles Adam Rappaport has ok-ed. I may find a beautiful beef wellington, made with buffalo and oyster mushrooms. Or maybe a new latke recipe featuring Jerusalem artichokes. And there's always a mile-high chocolate cake that I wolf whistle at and tear out the picture to hang in my imaginary locker room. Then, I get a pen and paper (I want to seem old school. I'm not. I use my notepad app on my phone. PS that font, right? Get more options), and I write out a menu for Christmas Day Dinner. December 25th rolls around and my family is always giddy with delight as we take our places at the table. We are thankful for each other, we promise that we will be healthier in the new year, and we dig in to eno