I’ve cooked in some wild places in my time – on shark boats during typhoons and every other crazy place you could think of. But I’ve never cooked on a train before. So, when Tasting Australia tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey Duncan, do you want to cook on a train?” I didn’t hesitate. You say “Yes!” to something like that. Then you figure out what you’ve actually agreed to.

There’s something undeniably cinematic about The Ghan’s Queen Adelaide dining carriage. It’s not just that it takes you back to a bygone era, though that’s there in the polished brass and velvet. It’s part of the greater Australian story. To be in an environment with such a rich history, and then to cook in it, was a huge privilege. And as a chef, you always want to do something a bit bold, a bit original.

We were joined by Durkhanai Ayubi and a team from her family’s Adelaide (Tarntanya) restaurant Parwana Afghan Kitchen. Over the 10-hour journey from Melbourne (Naarm) to Adelaide, the Parwana team handled breakfast, and we took care of lunch.

Durkhanai and her crew are like family; we’ve cooked together before, but this was the first time we’d shared a professional kitchen. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime collaborations that will probably never happen again – or at least, not in quite the same way.

I’ll be honest: I’d pictured a smooth, gentle ride – and for the most part, it was. I’m used to tight spaces, so that didn’t faze me, but it did take a little while to find my train legs. To begin with, it was like cooking out at sea. But once you’re on the train for a couple of hours, you get used to it. When our turn came, there were four of us in that tiny kitchen space: myself, my head chef from Africola, Parwana’s head chef Sayed Ayaz Asna and the head chef from The Ghan, Russell Seymour. Tight quarters, full noise. But it worked.

For the menu, we took our cues from the fine dining era of the early 19th century. For lunch, we served devilled eggs, cucumber and chicken skin tea sandwiches with caviar, followed by a rich chicken ballotine finished with morel sauce.

That day, the dining carriage looked like something out of a Wes Anderson movie. Champagne flowed. Caviar was devoured. People were laughing and getting a little rowdy. Guests were having the time of their lives between Melbourne and Adelaide; their energy was infectious. It reminded me how powerful a meal can be, especially when shared, when in motion, and no one has anywhere else to be.