We spoke with Erman Aras, founder of Bodrum Yadigarı, about the mandarin orchards inherited from his family, Bodrum’s agricultural memory and the future of the Bodrum mandarin.

Today, Bodrum is mostly associated with the sea, tourism, entertainment and its ever-growing development. Yet the peninsula is also home to vineyards, olive groves, fig orchards and mandarin trees. Once a source of livelihood for local families, the Bodrum mandarin gradually lost ground over the years as export markets disappeared and tourism created new economic pressures. These circumstances also laid the foundations for Erman Aras’s entrepreneurial journey.

Concerned that the mandarin orchards his father, Ömer Aras, had tended for decades would disappear after him, the family began searching for a new way forward. What started with selling fruit online eventually evolved into a broad range of products, transforming the mandarin into everything from jam and marmalade to Turkish delight, soda and vinegar; from chips and flour to extracts and cosmetics. The brand’s name carries another family story: Yadigar Aras. In this sense, “Bodrum Yadigarı” refers both to his mother’s name and to a legacy from Bodrum intended to be passed on to future generations.

Our conversation with Erman Aras reveals how an agricultural product can acquire new meaning. Seeing every stage of the mandarin tree, from blossom to seed, as a separate harvest, Aras now works across a broad spectrum ranging from zero-waste production and geographical indication to local gastronomy and agro-homeopathic practices. Because unless the Bodrum mandarin once again becomes profitable for its growers, truly preserving these orchards will be almost impossible.

In Pursuit of the Mandarin: Bodrum Yadigarı
Bodrum Yadigarı

Mr Aras, the story of Bodrum Yadigarı actually goes back much further than 2014, to the 125 mandarin saplings your father, Ömer Aras, planted in Müsgebi in 1951. What place do those orchards hold in your childhood memories?

Of course, we grew up surrounded by the mandarin orchard. We knew how much my father loved the trees; we saw it all the time. When he got older and could no longer take care of them as much as he used to, he would say, “After I’m gone, all these trees will disappear,” and it made him very sad. The thought that the trees he loved perhaps even more than his own children might disappear after him made me think seriously about what we could do. I had to find a solution and put his mind at ease, so I made him a promise. I said, “We’ll carry this on after you. Don’t worry. In fact, let’s start while you’re still here. Let’s sell them online.”