My sister Ellen likes to tell me I am a good plain cook. Rather than be offended by this, I take a pride in getting the basics right. It doesn't matter how fancy you are if it doesn't taste good.  Since my mother died a few months ago, our relationship has been strained, but tonight she is coming over for dinner. This is my attempt to pour oil on troubled waters, so to speak. Cooking has always been my way of showing love—plain or otherwise.  It's hard going through the belongings of the dead. As ever, Ellen took a practical approach. I realize some people feel that they need to move on and cl