Until she died at age 92, my cousin Betty’s words of welcome were always the same. “Now, you know I don’t cook, but I have plenty of beds, so plan to stay here when you come.” For breakfast, Betty served coffee with toast. Guests often cooked eggs or made sandwiches in her kitchen, but each evening, our hostess treated us to fresh seafood at a local restaurant. Soft pillows, fluffy towels, and hearty laughter at family stories enhanced Betty’s relaxed style of entertaining and wrapped us in a warm, put-your-feet-up sense of home. In a word, comfort. Whether in her…