Believe it or not, there is a downside to this job.

A gig that requires eating out at the Island's best ? and sometimes mediocre, very occasionally very bad ? restaurants, might seem like a dream career move, but there's definitely the odd occasion where this critic doesn't feel quite up to the job.

Another night of whatever followed by something fancy? It all sounds fantastic, but sometimes one wants nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book ? often a glossy cook book to stir the taste buds for the when the spirit is willing or when a reservation can be reserved for some of the sought-after dining spots.

It was really the latter scenario this time around. With a deadline looming, there was nothing in the notebook, and for once, no real desire for a night dining out. Indeed, a week had passed without the opportunity of taking some time out for dinner: Time for a quick lunch then.

We'd tried unsuccessfully to make a weekend supper reservation at Little Venice on numerous occasions but it was always booked up and we were always, very politely, told to try again later.

But this time we were in luck. A quick phone call let us know that a table would be available for us, if we could turn up soon ? and this on a Wednesday lunch hour!

After a scenic walk past the Par-la-Ville gas station and Butterfield Bank we hit what we informally refer to as 'restaurant row' ? Hack having written about eateries along Bermudiana Road several times.

Save for the large office buildings surrounding us, the bright warm day, the sea off in the distance (although difficult to see because of the aforementioned development), and palm trees dotting the sidewalk, Hack and a companion were put in a decidedly lighthearted mood.

We took an outside table at Little Venice, ordered two glasses of crisp white wine, sat back in the sun and watched the world pass by without a thought of having to be back at our desks within an hour.

To start, Hack ordered prawns in tomato sauce ? three giants from the deep, antennae intact. Heads were ripped off and shells discarded, accompanied by plenty of sucking and slurping sound effects. Crusty bread was used to mop the rest of the very tasty tomato broth the prawns were swimming in.

For mains, Hack went for the seafood special: healthy cuts of wahoo and tuna, pepper encrusted and grilled to perfection ? a melt-in-your-mouth kind of experience, finished off nicely with a crisp spinach salad tossed lightly with a tart vinaigrette.

For Hack's partner, baby rack of veal with a warm arugula salad, cherry tomatoes and baby roast potatoes, a combination that elicited lots of "hmm" and "ah" sounds accompanied by "very, very good" being uttered between bites.

Well sated, we skipped dessert, rounding off a very pleasant lunch with a milky coffee for one, and espresso for the other.

"Isn't this just absolutely wonderful?' asked my companion. "It almost feels as if we're on holiday."

We would have liked to have sat longer, and had another coffee, and maybe another, but the office beckoned.

But fair warning to our server ? a young woman with a charming Italian accent who was attentive throughout the meal without being obtrusive ? that we'll be back soon, for dinner if we can get in, or at the very least, another sidewalk-side lunch.