BEFORE visiting the new brasserie at Headlam Hall Hotel, my mind was scarred by my only other experience of a spa restaurant.

Last year I visited a terrible, soulless place in North West Spain, where the food was as sterile as the gleaming white corridors.

It was a place where the freshest vegetables were to be found far away from the dining table, reducing puffy eyes in a nearby treatment room.

The menu at this Galician spa was as dry and lifeless as the food itself and it gave me a sour impression of spas as a place to go to get some good grub.

But now I was at Headlam Hall Hotel - surely an entirely different proposition.

For decades, across the way from the new brasserie, the main restaurant has served up top notch meals, so I went in the confidence they wouldn't let me down.

The Robinson family, who own Headlam Hall, have gone to great efforts to make their new extension different. If the bigger, older brother is all about fine country dining, the brasserie claims to offer modern, informal, accessible meals.

Different menu, different atmosphere, different outlook, different chef.

The interior of the brasserie is a world away from the historic splendour of the main restaurant.

Designed to cater for both the golfers coming off the 9th green, and the newly-rejuvenated spa customer, the dining area is a simple but smart little room, with only a handful of tables and a bar.

The walls, a mixture of pale green and deep red, give the place a very intimate feel, while the large windows on one side offer views across the patio and to the golf course beyond.

Despite the small evening menu lacking a certain creative flair, it was lively enough and offered some tempting choices for myself and my partner Stacey to ponder over while we dunked crusty bread in balsamic vinegar and a fragrant extra virgin olive oil.

For starters, I went for a grilled black pudding, bacon and stilton salad (£4.50).

A perfect size, the excellent meltin- the-mouth black pudding married well with the bacon and the softened blue cheese, which had begun to ooze into the bed of crisp lettuce.

It was only tainted by far too much olive oil and what started off as an indulgent entree, ended up feeling like a greasy mixed grill.

Stacey enjoyed her simple tomato and mozzarella salad (£4.50), which came with a hunk of bread to mop up the unmissable juices at the bottom of the plate.

Both our main courses were robust enough to ensure that, even if we had spent a day burning calories in Headlam's glorious new spa, we wouldn't have come home any lighter.

I had cod wrapped in Parma ham with sun-dried tomatoes, herb mash and a tomato and tarragon sauce (£13).

The cod, disappointingly over cooked and dry, was thrown a tangy, sweet lifeline in the shape of the sauce.

Meanwhile the mash was how mash should be: creamy and lump-free.

Across the table, Stacey tackled a rib-eye steak with blue cheese sauce and some of the fattest fat chips I have ever laid eyes on (£15).

She said the medium steak was well cooked and the chips, each one the size of a mobile phone, were equally rewarding, although ultimately they got the better of her and some were left as the plates were removed.

Our waitress, Ingrid, pointed out that of all the desserts on the menu, the strawberry and Malteser iced parfait (£4.50) was far and away her favourite, persuading Stacey to disregard all the other options.

The parfait was a lumpy, bumpy, messy vision of pale-pink perfection and Stacey loved it. I had to lean across and try some too.

Fruity and gloriously creamy, you would encounter the odd piece of Malteser shrapnel, offering crunch and a chocolate kick.

Suffering from dessert envy and angry glances from my dinner partner, I tucked into my own sticky toffee pudding (£4.50) to find it offered a decent consolation and turned out to be a very good second-best choice.

The bill came to a very reasonable £59, which included a fine bottle of £13 house white.

So here's a tip. If a hot stone massage doesn't appeal and you can't tell a five-iron from a putter, don't let Headlam Hall Spa scare you off.

There is a way you can still go and come back feeling a whole lot better for the experience. After my Spanish spa nightmare, I certainly felt suitably healed, and very full.