Are Amtrak's Dining Car Meals As Luxurious As They Sound?

If you have the time, nothing beats train travel. What's better than rolling scenic views and the rails' gentle sway? Great question — I'll tell you: Enjoying those rolling views and that gentle sway while eating a luxurious meal. Amtrak is one of the biggest names in the American train game, and its dining car has received plenty of acclaim. YouTube content creator Safiya Nygaard highlighted the California Zephyr's decadent desserts, while fellow Tasting Table writer Wendy Leigh praised the chefs aboard the Coast Starlight. In May 2026, I traveled from Chicago to Seattle aboard Amtrak's Empire Builder to determine for myself (and all of you) just how fancy its dining car meals really are.

For my purposes, a luxurious dining experience is seamless, efficient, and, most importantly, delicious. Meals should prioritize freshness, flavor cohesion, and presentation. To assess this train's culinary prowess, I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner in its dining car and appraised each meal using these considerations. Amtrak's other dining options include a separate café car offering snacks, drinks, and select hot food items, but since these are grab-and-go (a decidedly un-luxurious phrase), they don't factor into this review.

You'll find my ruling below, but in the meantime, any prospective Amtrak travelers should know that menu options may differ by line, and seating is communal. If your vacation plans include riding and dining on the rails, be prepared to make a few friends (or enemies — I don't know your style).

My first morning aboard the Empire Builder, I donned my sea legs at 7:15 a.m. and made the wobbly trek from my roomette to the dining car. Seating began at 6:30 a.m. and concluded at 9:30 a.m., though Nygaard reported that on the California Zephyr, breakfast ended at 8:30 a.m. — a tough ask for habitual late risers like yours truly. Unlike Amtrak's lunch and dinner services, breakfast is first come, first serve, and costs $20 for coach riders. For sleeper passengers, meals are complimentary.

Guided by the accommodating (if rather harried) dining car attendants, I slotted myself into a booth with three other travelers, two of whom recommended the Amtrak Signature Railroad French Toast. My coffee and O.J. arrived just two minutes after ordering, but our entrees took another half hour, providing ample time for us to enjoy the early morning sunlight on the passing plains.

At last, my salvation: A plate of beautifully arranged brioche French toast topped with fresh blueberries, three whipped-cream twists, and a haphazard sprinkling of powdered sugar. Each sweet, sturdy slice of toast came warm with a crisp exterior that contrasted nicely with the berries and cream. The powdered sugar was a nice touch, if a bit superfluous beneath the other ingredients' more commanding textures. Syrup packets and two very well-done sausage links — dense, not too greasy, and slightly sweet — completed the meal. Other mains included a continental breakfast, a three-egg omelet, scrambled eggs, and a breakfast quesadilla that (as I learned the following morning) featured some smoky complexity from the onions and bell peppers inside.

Lunch aboard Amtrak's dining car did require a reservation (collected a few hours before service began at 11:30 a.m for the noon – 2:30 p.m. mealtime), but "casual" was the name of the game when I stumbled through the sliding doors at noon. No one arrived to take our order until 12:27 p.m., and while my Diet Coke arrived a brief six minutes later, entrees sauntered in at 1:04 p.m., a full hour after I claimed my designated seat at one of the communal booths.

Once my grilled patty melt arrived on its plastic, Amtrak-branded plate, accompanied by a disappointingly humble handful of potato chips, I dug into the crisp, toasted sourdough with ravenous enthusiasm. Unfortunately, my findings were anticlimactic. Not only was the bottom slice of bread untoasted, but the oozing Swiss and grilled onions only barely saved the dry ground beef patty, absent any sauces, seasonings, or textural contrast. The kettle chips were crispy but otherwise unremarkable and almost certainly pre-bagged. The meal's saving grace was the dessert: a rich butter cake with a dense crust, custard-like center, and delicate powdered-sugar dusting.

Other entrees included an Angus beef burger, a grilled chicken Caesar salad, a plant-based Beyond burger, and a vegan chili bowl, among others. Coach passengers hoping to get in on these midday delicacies could expect to pay a $25 fee.

When I sat down for dinner at 8:28 p.m., stomach rumbling thanks to an unexplained 30-minute delay in my reservation summons, soft lighting and crisp linens welcomed me to the evening meal, signaling a more formal affair to justify coach riders' impending $45 fee. Perhaps inspired by the elevated ambience, several of my fellow diners partook in the complimentary wine, a trio comprised of a cabernet sauvignon, a sauvignon blanc, and a chardonnay. Beer and spirits were also on offer, though these cost $8 to $9 a glass.

Another lunch-dinner distinction was the latter's appetizer course. I sprang for the coconut-crusted shrimp over the mixed green salad, a choice I did not regret but for its diminutive size. All three bite-size crustaceans were crispy but tasteless without their side of mild chili sauce. This "sauce over substance" theme continued with my allegedly medium (but quite dry) Amtrak Signature Flat Iron Steak, topped with a rich-yet-subtle port wine concoction and some fried onions for crunch. The limp steamed veggies and fluffy mashed potatoes both cried out for seasoning. The roll, while seemingly fresh-baked, didn't arrive until 9:45 p.m., 15 minutes after the main course. And for dessert? A chocolate spoon cake, upon which I bestowed three adjectives of high esteem: smooth, cold, and dense.

The dinner menu's other highlights included Atlantic salmon, which was tender and flaky with a delectable lobster sauce. My companions heaped praise upon the thyme-marinated chicken breast with morel mushroom sauce, and the following night, I fell hard for the menu's only other dessert: a mousse-like slice of white chocolate blueberry cobbler cheesecake.

As I lower my food-reviewer gavel with a merciless thud, let's address the elephant in the dining car: Nowhere on Amtrak's website does it market its meal service as a fine-dining experience. Dinner's linen tablecloths and ambient lighting provided the most direct link to luxury, but the service was consistently friendly and casual. Still, the sit-down experience was a considerable step up from other modes of travel dining (Nygaard noted that her meals were "definitely better than airplane food"), so just how fancy was it?

Not very, but neither was it low-grade. The ingredients weren't especially fresh or high-quality, and a few repeat components — namely onions and bell peppers — rendered the menu a bit monotonous. But each plate was arranged with surprising artistry, and what flavors there were played off one another with appetizing harmony.

The biggest detriments to my Amtrak dining experience were the frequent and lengthy service delays. Dinner was the worst offender, but every meal featured at least one extended waiting period that proved taxing for this amiable, but easily exhausted, introvert. For this I blame neither the food nor the staff (who seemed, if anything, overworked), but instead the inherent difficulties of prepping and delivering hundreds of hot meals aboard a bouncing metal box. So, was Amtrak's dining car luxurious? No. But was it serviceably tasty for a couple days of leisurely train travel? Most definitely.