It's New Year's Eve. Since December 23, I have done nothing but eat, and most of the food I've consumed does not have my 'healthy meal plan' stamp of approval. On top of all those calories, I turned my ankle over a week ago and haven't been able to run since. For a four-times-a-week runner, this is disaster. Not only have I gone without my usual runner's high, but I can feel those sugar, fat and cream calories packing around my mid-section. And tonight's New Year's Eve party, the theme of which is wine and fondue, does not promise to be a change in my eating habits. So what do I read? A book about food. In my defense, I'm working on an essay about food literature, so Ruth Reichl's Comfort Me with Apples: More Adventures at the Table is up my working alley. I read Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table , which you could argue is the prequel for Comfort Me with Apples years ago, and it made me want to cook. I feel that way every time I