The street stalls of Vienna left Bismarck exceedingly satisfied. Hamburgers, grilled sausages, oden, fish balls, spicy hotpot, jianbing guozi, Indian curry mush—even the fare served at French bouillon restaurants—everything was there.
In his view, the structure of a jianbing guozi was far more scientific than that of a hamburger.
"It can actually trap the heat inside. What a genius idea.
Hmm, I'll have four eggs."
"Here you are, sir. Careful, it's hot."
Bismarck nodded, holding the steaming jianbing guozi in his hand.
"Roon should like this."
Especially in winter, soldiers should be very fond of such a warm, quick meal.
In fact, Albrecht von Roon had indeed looked into it. This sort of thing was fine as a consolation prize, but supplying it to an army on a large scale was unrealistic.
Unless they did it like the Austrian army, with a company bringing along a squad of cooks, each cook responsible for the meals of only ten men. Then there would indeed be no problem.
But at the time, including Britain, France, and Prussia, armies usually organized their kitchens by battalion or regiment. Often four to eight cooks had to feed a thousand men.
Franz did not want this either, but putting Italian soldiers on the front lines damaged morale too badly.
These people were either eating all day or on their way to eat. Whenever they went to war, it was either windy or raining.
Things had been better in the age of line infantry, but now everyone used skirmishing tactics. Italian soldiers could often lie flat on the ground and wait until the war was over.
Some elite Italian local regiments were all right—well equipped and fierce in battle.
But Northern Italy's economy was flourishing as never before thanks to the Austrian Empire. With no worries over