In his forties, after a successful first part of his professional life in the sector of retirement homes, this son of a Moroccan and a Franco-Venetian who went through the great Parisian schools wanted to reconnect with his Moroccan roots. His paternal grandfather had participated in the planting of large olive farms in northern Morocco (the surname Boughaba means in Arabic “the one who owns the forest”).
“Going in search of the olive trees of my grandfather Abdeslam, which I had taken it into my head to buy back, I discovered by chance the beauty of the citrus gardens. » Initiated, meanwhile, to the immense diversity of citrus fruits by his friend Pascal Barbot, the chef of the Parisian restaurant Astrancehe dives into the adventure ” by buying 100 hectares of land” in M’Kansa, on the banks of the Sebou river, where he plants ” 100,000 trees ».
His fascination with citrus fruits grew. Laurent discovers while walking, listening and reading, that the citrus tell five thousand years of history and the work of men all over the planet. “Our sensibility today is connected to humans who lived thousands of years ago. It’s dizzying! » Another discovery that confirms his choice to have set up his orchard on this land extremely conducive to the development of citrus fruits: the garden of the Hesperides of Greek mythology, where the famous golden apples (probably oranges) grew, was located in Lixus, that is to say only a few kilometers from his farm.
Chinese mandarin, Meyer lemon, Tahitian lime, bergamot lemon, caviar lemon, Japanese sudachi…
Far from him the desire to monopolize all these marvels. Every year, when the trees are in bloom, he has got into the habit of relocating meetings and transporting about twenty executives from his company from Montrouge to Fez, right in the middle of these bewitching aromas. “You have to experience it at least once in your life. Amid the scents of yuzu, tangerine and orange mixed together, body and mind are literally saturated with happiness! »
Like a conservatory dedicated to the general public, Laurent wanted to open L’Agrumiste, a small shop on the left bank. It was Ali, his youngest son, who came up with the name spontaneously while trying to describe his father’s bizarre job to a friend: “Dad is a citrus man! » This place, located a stone’s throw from the Le Bon Marché department store, allows him to bring the taste of these citrus fruits to the heart of the capital, almost all of which are born at the foot of the Himalayas (only the lemon is native to the Mediterranean). On a few square meters, he exclusively markets citrus fruits, by weight, at retail, in the form of fresh fruit, of course, but also in marmalade, in syrup, in cake, with one requirement in addition to that of taste: always remain in tune with the season.
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