THERE was a time when Middlesbrough was a gastronomic desert of the very first order -a time when there was a greater likelihood of finding something decent to eat in a Soviet gulag than within the boundaries of the Boro. It was probably not as long ago as we think.

When it was exactly doesn't matter for the purposes of this piece, but strange things have happened in Middlesbrough during the last decade. The football club built a new swanky stadium, the Riverside, bought exotic players like the Brazilians Juninho and Emerson and The Purple Onion restaurant opened. Which must have pleased the football club chairman, Steve Gibson, who now had a alternative to a South Bank chippy if he wanted to take his South American assets for something to eat nearby.

Compared to what else was open in the town The Purple Onion was a revelation. It served real food and the atmosphere was unique. Created by one of the McCoy brothers (of Cleveland Tontine fame), the interior looked like a cross between a French fin de siecle bordello and an Algerian souk.

Today , although no longer owned by a McCoy, it has retained the slightly wacky ambience and the food is still very good. Sauces are particularly memorable.

The young-ish clientele is occasionally loud but there's a night club downstairs and that's part of its charm: just don't go to the Onion for a quiet tete-a-tete.

Do, however, take a one of those mini-torches because depending on where you sit the subdued lighting can make reading the menu a little challenging. Also take a note of your fellow diners, there isn't a no-smoking area but our waitress was happy to move us when we found ourselves sitting next to a couple who were clearly intent on chain-smoking throughout their meal.

The menu is a mix of standards and specials, including a range of steaks with a choice of sauces and pastas. Our starters were roasted black pudding served with crostini and a red chilli sauce which was well worth the £4.95. A whole pudding had been gently cooked to the consistency of rice pudding. The slightly-pink spicy mush was seriously stomach-churning stuff for a veggie but heavenly for a dedicated offal eater like myself.

Sylvia's deep fried salmon and ginger fishcakes served with a chive hollandaise were crispy and packed full of salmon. The chive hollandaise was a simple but beautifully-executed classic accompaniment.

Other starters which caught our eye were antipasta of cured meats with olives, parmesan and grilled foccacia and slow roast vine tomato brochette with mozzarella and basil dressing

The main courses kept up the good work, Sylvia's chicken stuffed with Greenland prawns and served with sub-blushed tomato and thyme cream (£11.95) was tender if a little on the dry side. My pan-fried halibut served on caramelised onions with a red wine beurre blanc (£14.50) was also well received. The fish was meltingly soft and the sauce despite being made with red wine didn't overwhelm the flavour of the fish.

Other main courses included: roast rack of Lamb with black pudding and juniper Madeira jus, and chargrilled pork chops, sage and wild garlic mash and a cider apple sauce

Accompanying vegetables were perhaps a trifle al dente for some conservative tastes but plentiful and well presented.

We ordered coffee and an exellent strawberry crme brulee (hard top, smooth as silk underneath - £4.50) for me, which arrived sometime after the coffee. As the coffee was piping hot this turned out not a problem.

Service was mostly efficient from a team of enthusiastic smiley young staff although in some establishments having to ask for knives, forks and salt and pepper might be deemed a bit remiss.

The bill was a shade over £60 and it included a decent half-bottle of house chardonnay and a couple of pre-dinner drinks. The only sting in the tale was a 2.5pc surcharge for paying with a credit card - petty and unnecessary we thought.

The Purple Onion may no longer be revolutionary in the town as it once was but, as a breaker of Middlesbrough's culinary mould, it has aged exceedingly well.