Chapter 823: Flying Kitchen
Chapter 823: Flying Kitchen
"Two months ago, Her Majesty the Queen summoned Miss Véronique regarding this matter and asked what reward she desired. To her surprise, she said she only wished to become your maid. After Her Majesty confirmed she possessed excellent court etiquette, grooming skills, silent dusting, and cooking abilities, she graciously agreed."
Véronique's family belonged to the hereditary nobility and held some status at the Palace of Versailles, so she was just barely qualified to be the Crown Prince's maid. Queen Mary, grateful for her help with Camelia, had granted the request.
Camelia glanced at the girl, then whispered to Joseph, "Your Highness, Miss Véronique truly admires you. After learning she could come to Brussels, she was so excited she didn't sleep for several nights."
Joseph smiled and nodded at Véronique, though he didn't feel anything particularly special about the arrangement.
After all, he had dozens of maids around him; he only remembered the names of a few who attended his bedchamber. Competition was fierce, and this lady might very well be replaced in a few months.
"Your Highness," Véronique reminded him carefully, "what about dinner?"
"Oh, it's a bit late today. I'll sample your cooking next time."
"As you wish, Your Highness." A look of perfectly measured disappointment flickered across the girl's face. She took two steps back and resumed her place standing behind Camelia.
He had been away from Paris for quite a while and wanted to hear the maid's news about the King, the Queen, and Charles.
At the mention of dinner, Camelia suddenly puffed out her chest with a hint of pride. She said to Joseph, "Your Highness, thank you for the invitation. Actually, I have something to give you as well—consider it a return gift for the dinner."
Joseph, who had been buried in military and state affairs recently, felt a rare sense of relaxation. He asked with genuine interest, "Oh? And what might that be?"
"It's outside in the courtyard." Camelia oriented herself, walked to the east window, and pointed to a carriage not far away. "That's it, Your Highness. I call it the 'Flying Kitchen'!"
Joseph's eyes lit up at her words. He turned and asked, "Are you saying that cooking can be done inside that carriage?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Camelia explained. "While I was away at the sanatorium, I saw the temporary cooking carts used by nobles for picnics. I remembered how Her Majesty the Queen was always worried you wouldn't get decent food at the front, so I worked with Mr. Picard to improve the design."
"Later, I even asked Lieutenant Leroux for his advice. You know, he served in the war in Tunisia."
Picard was the Crown Prince's personal carpenter, while Lieutenant Leroux was a member of the palace guard.
Joseph asked further, "Your... ah, the Flying Kitchen? How heavy is it? Can it travel off-road?"
"It weighs about the same as a carriage carrying three people," the maid replied. "Lieutenant Leroux tested it. It can pass through anywhere that isn't exceptionally muddy."
"And what can it do?"
"Inside, there's an oven and a stove. Mr. Picard designed them to share a single hearth. You just unfold the walls of the carriage to use it. Oh, and it's fully stocked with pots, cooking utensils, coal, and seasonings." Camelia grew even happier seeing that the Crown Prince seemed to like her little invention. "In the hands of a skilled chef, it can produce stew for a hundred and fifty people in under twenty minutes, including the time to start the fire."
Upon hearing this, Joseph didn't even care about waiting for dinner. He took Camelia's hand and hurried out of the room. "Let me take a closer look. You may have created something truly extraordinary."
One must never underestimate a soldier's diet.
Food is directly linked to combat effectiveness.
One could only imagine: if the soldiers of one side were eating dry bread and rock-hard salted meat while the other side enjoyed hot meat and vegetable soup with soft, warm bread, who would have higher morale when the fighting started?
The latter would even possess significantly more physical stamina. Especially in cold weather, a bowl of beef and tomato soup could practically bring a person back to life.
In this era, the armies of most nations relied on dry bread and salted meat for rations, supplemented by a bit of wine for flavor.
Even elite units with the best conditions could, at most, heat their food or have bread with fewer impurities.
As for officers, wanting a freshly cooked hot meal on the field was usually nothing more than a pipe dream.
The core reasons restricting military rations were twofold: the cost of food and the massive logistical burden that field cooking equipment added to the baggage train.
During a campaign, armies would rather transport more cannonballs than a mountain of cooking gear.
But Camelia's field kitchen possessed excellent mobility. A single draft horse could pull it, and it could support the rations for four or five hundred men.
If a regiment took three of these carriages along with eight or nine chefs, the soldiers' diet could be drastically improved. The added logistical pressure was entirely acceptable.
Joseph remembered that similar field kitchens wouldn't appear until the later stages of the Napoleonic Wars, and even then, they weren't widely equipped.
And yet, this treasure of a girl before him had actually tinkered one together so early!
He and Camelia approached the Flying Kitchen and ordered the guards to open it. Inside was a cleverly designed wooden frame. On the left was the stove, while the right held tools and storage space.
It was clear that Mr. Picard had put a great deal of effort into it.
Joseph inspected the size of the hearth and the standard iron pots. Based on his own experience on campaign, he judged that Camelia's output data was actually conservative; she had likely based it on tests by court chefs.
If this were put in the hands of rough army cooks, they could probably churn out stew for two hundred men in twenty minutes.
He simply had the kitchen unfolded and the fire lit, summoning a chef to prepare dinner right there.
Half an hour later, two simple meals consisting of tomato-stewed pigeon, mashed potatoes with artichokes, roasted veal, and several slices of bread appeared before him.
Since it was large-batch cooking, preparing a meal for two took roughly the same amount of time as preparing it for forty.
Sitting at a small wooden table in the open courtyard, Camelia ate her food, stealing glances at the elated Crown Prince. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her face was full of happy smiles.
His Highness had done so much for her and had even saved her life. Now, she could finally repay him even just a little.
She wished she could do even more for him.
After dinner, Camelia intended to continue serving the Crown Prince, but Joseph, considering her exhaustion from the journey, ordered her to get some proper rest.
When the maid returned to her room and was about to open the door, she heard a girl's voice from behind her. "Miss Camelia, do you... wish to become even more intimate with His Highness the Crown Prince?" Camelia didn't even need to turn around to recognize the voice. It was Véronique Legris.
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