Amidst all of the eventually-bound-to-occur chaotic holiday prep (read: frantically shopping, meticulously decorating, mentally preparing, etc. etc., you know, all of the good stuff), one bonus is the opportunity to make and eat lots of delicious food. It should go without saying that not only am I a fan of fastidiously cooking meals, but I am also one of eating the meals afterwards. My theory is that a happy belly directly correlates to a happy soul... or something along those lines. These past few days I've been eating some not-so-healthy* food, simply because while I was back in Boston, I stuck with the same repetitive, simple, healthy meals every day - in proper "I'm unabashedly a stringently regimented, old-habits-die-hard kind of person" fashion. (*Note: using the descriptor of "some not-so-healthy" is me being kind to myself... what it really means: copious amounts of sweets and packaged foods.) Naturally, coming home to the goodies that my parents ha...