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The two staffs generally cooperated -- most of the time, at least for those outside the kitchens.  But they didn't always particularly like each other.  Devotion to one Princess was not loathing of the other -- but their respective loyalties occasionally went to war, and when that battlefield moved across stoves and the typically-short tempers of professional cooks got involved...  Well, it was a rare meal when the sisters didn't hear crockery being kicked or pots field-tossed at opposing non-soldiers.  The Solar and Lunar chefs didn't share the kitchen:  they simply conducted long-term sieges to see who would dominate.  Sometimes the Solar forces would advance a few body lengths and get the sauce station back.  The next meal would see the Lunar army take command of the garnishes.  Trenches hadn't been dug, but it was only a matter of time. 

Both Princesses had spoken to their respective staffs about the problem.  They had both been ignored.  After all, nopony outranked a head chef.

So Celestia's staff, on the occasions when she shared the dining room with Luna, called that first/last meal of the day 'brinner'.  Luna's referred to that last/first serving as 'dinfast'.  And then everypony ducked.

Celestia tried not to look at the kitchen doors as her ears twitched at the latest crash.  Heavy thud.  Echo.  Lid following.  Lots of wong-wong-wong...  okay, let's say that was the big pasta boiler.  No, having them pay for their own replacements clearly isn't doing a thing...

Luna wasn't quite as devoted to feigning disinterest.  "I would say mine are making a push for the pastries."

That got Celestia's attention.  "They'd better not..."

Teasing, just a little, "And why not?  Follow the clues of your ears, sister -- given the amount of flour used at both, the pasta and pastry stations are sensibly placed rather close together, near the access for that part of the pantry.  Take one, and it is but a simple surge to seize the other.  I'm certain my crew is capable of following one bold move with another.  Unless, of course, you would like to take a personal interest...?"

It was pastries:  therefore, it was tempting.  But Celestia had somewhat less authority in her own kitchen than she did in the Griffon Republic:  the title was largely a courtesy in both, but the cooks were much more likely to laugh in her face, especially given their awareness of her own skills.  No amount of time had served to bring Celestia's cooking over the level of the most basic trail food:  get a little further down the road, get to another town and most importantly, find somepony to cook for the group who wasn't her.  "One supposedly-accidental batch of dough to the face per moon is enough, thank you."

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/119983/3/a-total-eclipse-of-the-fun/occultation