You don’t rush Ann Penny. Show up at her homey, cluttered storefront restaurant and the Trinidadian cook walks back to her tight little kitchen and scratch-cooks your meal with the poise of some lovably mellow mom. Take in Penny’s tchotchkes while you chill: a map of the eastern Caribbean faded to a uniform cyan blue, island flags in shiny nylon, and a ceramic Pekingese with a flamingo-pink snout. There’s nothing snooty about the food that finally does arrive, on plates hefty enough to sink a fishing trawler. The vegetarian roti is a stretchy, buttery-tasting, Indian-style crepe crammed with coarsely smashed spuds and chickpeas. Jerk chicken comes with a slab of vividly orange mac ‘n’ cheese, a mess of rice and peas, and sauteed spinach. Oh yeah, and the chicken: fat hunks of pan-fried flesh blazing with the heat of Penny’s habanero-chile-and-vinegar sauce. It’s a mouthful of fierce in what may be the most laid-back dining room in town.