Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 915 - 823 Flying Kitchen

"Two months ago, Her Majesty the Queen summoned Miss Veronique and asked her what reward she wanted. As a result, she said she only wanted to become your maid. After Her Majesty confirmed that she possessed excellent court etiquette, personal grooming, silent dusting, and cooking skills, she agreed with pleasure."

Veronique’s family is hereditary nobility, holding some status at the Palace of Versailles, so being the Crown Prince’s maid was barely adequate. And Queen Mary thanked her for helping Camellia, so she consented.

Camellia glanced at the girl, then whispered to Joseph: "Your Highness, Miss Veronique really admires you. After she learned she could come to Brussels, she was so excited that she couldn’t sleep for several nights."

Joseph smiled and nodded at Veronique, but he didn’t feel anything particular in his heart.

After all, he had dozens of maids around him, and he could only remember the names of a few bedroom maids. Competition was fierce too, and this lady might be replaced in a few months.

"Your Highness," Veronique cautiously reminded, "what about dinner?"

"Oh, it’s a bit late today, I’ll taste your cooking another time."

"As you wish, Your Highness." The girl’s face showed just the right amount of disappointment, and she took two steps back, standing again behind Camellia.

Joseph turned to Eman and said, "Please have the chef prepare an extra dinner and bring it here. I want to have dinner with Camellia."

He had been away from Paris for a long time, preparing to hear from the Maid about the King, the Queen, and Charles.

When dinner was mentioned again, Camellia suddenly puffed out her chest proudly and said to Joseph: "Your Highness, thank you for your invitation, and I have something to give you as a return gift for the dinner."

Lately, Joseph had been busy with military and state affairs, and now he felt a rare sense of relaxation, so he asked with great interest: "Oh? What is it?"

"It’s in the yard outside." Camellia distinguished the direction, went to the window on the east side, and pointed to a "carriage" not far away, "That, Your Highness. I call it the ’Flying Kitchen’!"

Joseph’s eyes lit up at these words, and he turned to ask: "Are you saying that cooking can be done in that carriage?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Camellia replied, "When I went for a health retreat, I saw the temporary cooking cart used by the nobles for picnics and thought that Her Majesty the Queen often worried that you wouldn’t have tasty food on the front lines, so I improved it with Mr. Picard.

"Then I also got advice from Lieutenant Lelu, you know, he participated in the war in Tunisia."

Picard is the Crown Prince’s exclusive carpenter, and Lieutenant Lelu is a court guard.

Joseph asked again: "Your... ah, is it called the ’Flying Kitchen’? How heavy is it? Can it move in the field?"

"About as heavy as a carriage carrying three people," the Maid said, "Lieutenant Lelu tried it, and it can go as long as the terrain isn’t especially muddy."

"So what can it do?"

"Inside it has an oven and a stove, Mr. Picard designed them to share one hearth. The wagon’s sides unfold for use. Oh, and there’s a whole set of pots and utensils, as well as coal and seasonings." Camellia saw that the Crown Prince seemed to like her little invention and became even more delighted. "A skilled chef can use it to prepare stew for 150 people in 20 minutes, including the time to start the fire."

Upon hearing this, Joseph forgot about dinner and pulled Camellia outside: "Let me take a closer look. You may have created something extraordinary."

Don’t underestimate the soldiers’ diet.

Eating is directly related to combat effectiveness.

Imagine soldiers on one side eating dry bread with rock-hard cured meat, while on the other, they’re having hot meat and vegetable soup with soft hot bread. When it comes time to fight, whose morale will be higher?

The latter might even have more physical strength, especially in cold weather, when a bowl of tomato beef soup can really chase away fatigue.

In this era, the basic rations for the armies of various nations were dry bread and cured meat, complemented by a bit of wine for flavor.

Even the best elite troops could only heat their food a bit, with fewer impurities in the bread at most.

Even for officers, it was almost a luxury to eat freshly made hot dishes.

The core reasons limiting army meals were the cost of food and that battlefield cooking would significantly increase logistical burdens.

During war, armies would rather transport more ammunition than bring a lot of cooking equipment.

But Camellia’s mobile kitchen had excellent mobility; a single horse could pull it, roughly capable of providing meals for four to five hundred people.

A regiment with three such carriages and eight or nine chefs could greatly improve soldiers’ meals, and the added logistical pressure would be entirely manageable.

Joseph recalled that similar battlefield kitchens seemed to appear only toward the later stages of the Napoleonic Wars, and they weren’t widely equipped even then.

This treasure of a girl had come up with it so early!

He and Camellia came to the "Flying Kitchen" and instructed the guards to open it; inside was a cleverly designed wooden rack structure, with a stove on the left and tools and storage space on the right.

It seemed Mr. Picard had put in quite an effort.

Joseph examined the size of the hearth and the standard iron pots, based on his experience in expeditions with the army, Camellia’s catering data was conservative. She probably had the court chefs test it.

If switched to the large rough soldiers of the army, they might cook for 200 people with it in 20 minutes.

He had them unfold the kitchen cart, light a fire, and summoned chefs to cook dinner right there.

Half an hour later, two simple meals of tomato-braised pigeon, artichoke mashed potatoes, roasted veal, accompanied by a few slices of bread appeared before him.

This was a communal meal, so the time taken to cook for 2 people was about the same as for 40.

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The jewel of Northwest Italy—the Genoa Republic, its history is like a magnificent maritime narrative. As early as the early 11th century, this vibrant city-state rose on the Ligurian Coast, mastering multiple strategic locations in the Mediterranean Sea with its outstanding navigation skills and sea power, becoming the economic and financial center of Europe at the time.

In the golden era of the 16th to 17th centuries, Genoa’s commerce was at its peak, engaging in fierce commercial competition with Venice, leaving a profound imprint on the economic map of Sicily. However, the shifting winds of 17th-century Europe forced Genoa into decline with the rise of Spain, and it was ultimately conquered by Napoleon’s iron hoof in 1798, shattering the Republic’s dream of independence. Despite a brief restoration, it couldn’t resist the annexation by the Kingdom of Sardinia, entering a new turning point in Genoa’s historical Chapter.