Brocket Hall has seen its fair share of scandal. This Georgian stately home set in 543 acres of country estate in Hertfordshire, just 22 miles north of London, is the ancestral home of Lord "Charlie" Brocket - vintage car dealer, sausage maker, I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here contestant and ex-con.

Brocket was forced to sell up after a financial scandal in the Nineties left him unable to afford its upkeep.

He sold the estate to a German property business on a 60-year lease, which turned the house and lodge into a very successful golf club - there are two championship courses and a Nick Faldo Golf Institute - and hotel with a restaurant that recently won a Michelin star for its French cuisine.

The scandalous lineage dates back to 1760 when it was built by the architect James Paine for Sir Mathew Lamb.

Sir Mathew's son became the first Lord Melbourne, whose wife had been a mistress of the Prince Regent, later George IV, who visited here and created the Prince Regent suite, which guests stay in today.

The second Lord Melbourne trod a more proper path, becoming Queen Victoria's first Prime Minister.

However, on his death in 1848, Brocket Hall passed on to his sister whose future husband was Lord Palmerston - he is said to have died following a liaison with a chambermaid on a billiard table. As they say, you couldn't make it up. Baroness Thatcher also wrote her memoirs here. Nothing scandalous about that

We were staying in Melbourne Lodge, a collection of 16 rooms in the former stables at the heart of the estate overlooking the main house, with a pretty working bell tower atop.

The minimalist, modern glass entrance set in the warm red-brick implied a tasteful blending of old and new as have, for example, many a Hotel du Vin. However, I found our room, Hibiscus (Red Rum was round the corner - this was the old stables, remember), largely disappointing.

The powder-blue carpet was soft and luxurious underfoot, large horsey oil paintings worked too but the reproduction furniture, tiny television and clunky white plastic BT phone jarred with the overall elegant, if a little chintzy, effect.

Also, I have to mark it down for UHT pots of cream. Surely a fridge with some real milk wouldn't break the bank?

But the view of the lake out of the window was lovely - it looked too serene for Charlie Brocket to have buried his cars there.

He served two-and-a-half years in prison for insurance fraud after claiming three vintage Ferraris and a Maserati had been stolen, when in fact he had buried them somewhere in the grounds.

I'm not a golfer but I would come here just for the food at Auberge du Lac, a beautiful former hunting lodge on the edge of the Broadwater River overlooking the parkland.

Jean-Christophe Novelli once presided over the kitchens here, now Phil Thompson (ex-L'Escargot and the Lanesborough) is executive chef.

Our meal was exquisite from start to finish. We began with champagne and tiny balls of foie gras by the lake before moving indoors to a cosy alcove for perfect English asparagus on the thinnest slice of home-smoked salmon (there is a smokehouse by the lake) with a poached hen's egg (slightly underdone for me) and watercress, while my partner had juicy caramelised Scottish scallops with pretty pomegranate pips, orange and carrot on a sake nage (pool of sake).

We were in food heaven, then came my piggy plate of roast Tamworth pork, confit shoulder and glazed cheek, black pudding and even a thin, coin-like disc of trotter. I love pork but I don't usually extend this love to trotters - but it was cooked to perfection.

My partner chose the slow roast rump of tender British beef, with short sand bone marrow, morels and potato gratin. These were hearty, tasty dishes but wonderfully cooked and presented.

The puddings were equally perfect -blueberry and almond cheesecake, with roasted almond ice cream and strawberry and white chocolate mousse with caramelised vanilla brioche and poached wild strawberries.

Afterwards we were brought homemade biscuits with frothy milk to dip them in. The sommelier even managed to get me to drink red wine when I haven't for years.

The next morning, after a filling English breakfast (orange juice, hash browns, meaty sausages - not Brocket's Bangers - and grilled tomatoes), we walked it off in the grounds.

Had there been a spa we would have been happy to while away a few hours swimming or being massaged.

This is essentially golf with rooms, which is fine if you play but if you don't the absence is notable - but not scandalous. Those days seem well and truly over.

WAY TO GO

Brocket Hall (01707 335 241, www.brocket-hall.co.uk). Doubles from £175 a night B&B.