WORDS by HANNAH NATHANSON PHOTOGRAPHS by LIZ COLLINS STYLING by AURELIA DONALDSON Florence Pugh is having a moment of intense pleasure.
Slowly, elegantly, with the tantalising precision of Nigella Lawson, she slices into a glistening ball of burrata. ‘Oh my god!
Did you see that…’ It sits in front of her, drizzled in pesto; its contents oozing onto the plate. ‘It was quite sexual, wasn’t it?’ she says.
There’s a pause. ‘Don’t tell everyone I said popping cheese was quite sexual.’ But eating lunch with Florence Pugh is a sensual experience.