So me and my mates do a little dance whenever we say Duck & Waffle – we literally 'duck' and then it's a wiggle. We also sometimes call it Fuck and Waffle cos, rhyming. Anyway, we think we're fucking hilarious. One Friday, very recently, I went and had lunch with my sister, 40 floors above London. It was glorious. Glorious for so many reasons. One, because of my sister. She has an 18 month old son, and is a workaholic, so finding time to have pure uninterrupted Rachel time is like holding riesling in the palm of your hands – thick, heady, goldenness, that would still slip through your fingers, as in, neigh on impossible. My sister and I are very close. She is one of those incredible people that I want to be one day, (even if she's my little sister). She is currently about to have her second baby (any moment now!), she worked full time till over 8months pregnant, yet I have not heard her complain, once. Plus she is so encouraging, supportive, to the pe...
This is a project about the conversations and thoughts that food, drink and the location of London brings.