We were introduced to Nicole through her son Alfred (master mixologist and heir to the Cointreau empire). The family kindly sent us Eurostar train tickets and hosted us at their beautiful home in Angers. On arrival we made our way down a long, tree-lined driveway to an old converted barn with a bright, open kitchen at its core.
The whole weekend was a poem in orange: giant pumpkins in the greenhouse, Nicole’s Cointreau-colour-matched skirt, the iconic orange of the Cointreau bottle, and an army of us in the kitchen juicing oranges for tarte d’oranges. It was November but we spent our time outdoors, wading through a thick leaf carpet to find the right shot of Nicole amongst the autumn trees, baby granddaughter Louison to incite extra giggles.
