STEVINSON -- Close your eyes, and you could almost swear it was the late 1800s.
As guests aboard an old train ate Cornish hen and wild rice, they felt the pull of a steam locomotive. A whistle blared, steam hissed and the dining car rocked back and forth. Curious passengers pulled back the curtains and peered out the window, but it was pitch black outside.Until it was time for dessert, that is. As servers cleared dinner plates and set brownies with whipped cream and chocolate sauce before the diners, the darkness lifted to reveal cows running toward the moving train. The guests pointed and exclaimed. And they questioned how the old train simulated a night of traveling without really leaving the station."I was wondering how it got so dark out there," passenger Carrie Kelley says. "Of course, the cows were a nice touch."Welcome to the History Train -- the latest brainchild of organic dairy farmer Tony Azevedo. In Stevinson, about 20 miles northwest of Merced, Azevedo cobbled together his train from various historic cars and a steam locomotive.This avid collector of agricultural artifacts took an interest in local railroads because they were critical to farmers. Before the advent of the train, farmers could sell their crops only within a five- to 10-mile radius."After the trains came, farmers were able to sell food to Chicago," he says.He renovated a couple of the cars in his collection, built a large viewing deck for them, made a documentary about the train and turned all of it into one of the most unique dinner-and-movie experi-ences in the central San Joaquin Valley."The goal is to try to provide an event with fine dining," Azevedo says. He launched the History Train this year with the goal of hosting about eight dinners between April and October.Organizations book the train as fundraisers and sell tickets for about 50 guests. The Azevedo family takes care of the rest.The evening begins with glasses of wine and a stroll around the Double T Ag Museum, the town Azevedo built next to his farm for his agricultural artifacts. Open the doors to the saloon, and you'll see a group of horse-drawn vehicles. Walk through the jail -- decorated with an actual cot from a jail cell and portraits of outlaws -- and you'll get to the bathrooms.And then there's the train. At the head is the oldest Union Pacific steam engine in existence. Built in 1887, the locomotive started off as the Union Pacific 737. It was later sold and turned into the Southern Pacific 216. Next is the Santa Fe 1772, which carried mail and cargo throughout the central San Joaquin Valley. It's now a gift shop and train museum with a sign that explains the point of the project: "The History Train represents the great contribution railroads made in improving the life of the San Joaquin Valley farmer."Part of the train is the Pennsylvania 1660. "If you were an emigrant at the turn of the 19th century entering the United States through Ellis Island, this was the type of car that would have started you on your way," states a sign in the train museum."All aboard!" Azevedo calls, and passengers boarding the train discover that the Pennsylvania 1660 is now an air-conditioned dining car. Each table is next to a window, and guests routinely pull back the cur- tains to look outside.The lights dim, a movie screen descends, and a short documentary narrated by Azevedo details the components of the History Train. In addition to the Southern Pacific 216, the Santa Fe 1772 and the Pennsylvania 1660, the train includes two other cars: the Santa Fe 21 (the first car in the United States to transmit by radio to train depots and aircraft) and the Santa Fe 414 (the caboose, which, as Azevedo points out, is the "home away from home for the conductor and crew").Trains were important to farming in the central San Joaquin Valley for several reasons, the movie explains. In addition to expanding the distance crops could travel, the quicker transportation time helped products stay fresher.And, of course, the trains brought new settlers attracted to the Valley's fertile lands -- and their cheap prices as low as $2.50 an acre.By the time the documentary ends, the windows are blackened to obscure the outside view. And Azevedo's voice signals the start of the three-course meal. "We're waiting for track clearance," he says. "... I'd appreciate it if you can stay seated until we're under way."After passengers have their fill of the fruit-stuffed Cornish hen, the train's mysterious movements and the running of Azevedo's dairy cows, they muse over how much times have changed."All of the commerce before the railroad ... was delivered to Stockton by barge," passenger Bob Cornell says. As travel shifted to railroads, then highways, some of the surrounding towns migrated to stay close to the transportation lines.And Matt Christiano and Sallie Calhoun, owners of Cutting Edge Meat, a custom slaughterhouse in Newman, linger with Azevedo, asking more questions about the train's history.What they really want to know is the secret to the train's movement during dinner. But Azevedo's not telling."How far did we move?" Christiano says.Azevedo's answer is coy: "Oh, to Chowchilla and back."