Harvey Nicks enlisted to bring a bit of taste to the buffet car

The era of the concave British Railways sandwich is long gone and the days of the greasy buffet car may be numbered.

In a direct challenge to the restaurants of London and Edinburgh, the company that runs express trains along the east coast between the capitals of England and Scotland has made a heavy investment in what it hopes will prove to be the ultimate meals on wheels.

Great North Eastern Railway's (GNER) new food service aims to disprove "once and for all" the axiom that anything eaten on a train will be half as good and twice as expensive as virtually anything eaten elsewhere – with the exceptionof the execrable fare on offer at motorway service stations.

GNER catering managers have enlisted the services of chefs at Harvey Nichols, the Knightsbridge department store and favoured venue for the ladies who lunch. The Independent decided to road-test the new "Go Eat'' approach to comestibles at GNER.

On a morning service from London to Doncaster, white coffee in the buffet car was decidedly unremarkable: regulation molten plastic in a polystyrene cup.

A chocolate cake – you have to say "can I get a muffin'' rather than "may I have a chocolate cake'' to make yourself understood – was rich and filling. This "Belgian choc-chip muffin'' was made by a family bakery in Hexham, Northumberland, rather than a Bruges chocolatier, but was none the less acceptable for that.

The directors of GNER would like you to know that the buffet food has been commended by the learned gentlemen of the British Sandwich Association, who know a decent ham roll when they see one.

The journey north in second class, or "standard'' as GNER prefers to call it, was a touch too snug. In a crowded carriage, a lady conducted a mobile phone monologue for one and a half hours – or one hour 37 minutes to be exact – in a mixture of English, German and Arabic. Mindless violence seemed to be the only answer.

The return trip was another matter. This was the best the rail company had to offer. This was lunch as it used to be taken by the professional classes. It was the full monty: three courses, white and red wine, with coffee and cognac to finish. Bottled water was ordered for the sake of convention.

Caterers at GNER have tried to mix a multinational appeal with the idea that the food on offer is the best of British, supplied by small, regional companies.

The starter was, in effect, a small, very lightly baked pizza topped with goats cheese and tomatoes. On the menu the pastry base was anglicised as a "stottie'' – a traditional oven-bottom bap also baked in Hexham. This was a satisfying start to the meal, especially when complemented by the house white – a considerable cut above the ill-bred chardonnays on offer in most pubs.

The main course was a Harvey Nichols special, sautéed chicken breast in a sherry-and-garlic sauce with potatoes and baby leeks. This was a dish to compare with meals on offer at most mid to upmarket restaurants in London – even though the sauce was prepared in advance and the meat and vegetables cooked on the train. The accompanying house red, a syrah-grenache, was warming, smooth and, above all, extremely alcoholic. The pièce de résistance, however, was the Harvey Nichols chocolate mocha, which the ladies who lunch would doubtless describe as "to die for''. This was, to borrow a marketing line from elsewhere, Death by Chocolate. It would be difficult to find a more agreeable method of expiring.

With coffee and house cognac, a VSOP Martell, the experience was a change from the old British Railways meals on wheels. But a note of caution should be added for the unwary and for those without expense accounts. The meal for two with tip came to £80 – perhaps £10 more expensive than one would be charged in central London for food and drink of a similar calibre.

Thankfully, the new culinary approach at the train company has not led to any new-fangled "customer care, have-a-nice-day'' courses for employees, who are friendly and courteous. One of the staff in the restaurant car was the epitome of the traditional British Rail cheeky chappy. "We do get some funny people in here, sir. There are two gentlemen who get on at Newark. One of them insists on Marmite soldiers for breakfast – I keep a jar especially for him – and the other insists on freshly cut lemon in his Earl Grey tea. We all know what the anagram for Newark is, don't we, sir?''