Trygve Sahar Harris

I’m American, originally from Southern California, and then New York City. I travelled a lot throughout my life, for fun, and then for aromatics, and agarwood, and finally came to rest in Dhofar, Oman, land of Frankincense.

It was intentional, as I had been drawn to Oman since the first time I became aware of its enchanting story and magnificent natural beauty.

I bought my first still, a small copper alembic, in 2007, and tried to distill frankincense resin in my kitchen in NYC and I got lucky. Now that I know all the ways that could have gone, it seems the frankincense spirits were smiling on me. I took my alembic to Oman, and tried it there, distilling frankincense in a friend’s flat in the coconut grove. The idea wasn’t to start a company...but our previous supplier of Omani frankincense had quit the business, and there was no Boswellia sacra essential oil available in the world in those years. Carterii, yes, sacra, no. For me, this was a huge issue. Once it became possible for non-package tourists to visit, I was there with my little alembic, among Salalah’s coconut trees, making frankincense oil.

When I learned about the Free Trade Agreement between my country and Oman, that Americans had the privilege of opening a company without a local partner, I went for it straight away. Mind you, my motives were not really too financially based; I was thrilled to be able to make frankincense oil for Enfleurage, in Oman.

I am also the one who originated frankincense ice cream and sold it at Haffa souq in 2010 during Khareef. Frankincense opened so many doors in my mind.

Tom Carson

Tom is my partner—and he’s usually working at Enfleurage in New York. Tom has been the manager of Enfleurage for a very long time, and he is the one you will likely be dealing with if you order something from the US.

He is pathologically drawn to Dhofar and can be seen enjoying the natural world of Southern Oman every chance he gets.

Mrs. Stubbs, The Professor & Henry

These are our felines—All were street cats, or abandoned cats, with traumatic pasts.

Mrs. Stubbs wandered in and decided to stay, back in 2017. She has always been very skittish and has a tail stump, so we can only guess at whatever happened to her. She has been missing since October 2020, when she disappeared on her afternoon rounds. We mourn her. She was a very good kitten.

The Professor was thrown out of a car nearby, we think, as he wasn’t in the neighborhood before—he was not afraid of us, very skinny, and had some digestive problems. He got into the kitchen and refused to leave. Now he’s our tiny tyrant, and lord of the distillery. He supervises every distillation, no matter how hot it gets and he doesn’t mind the air shimmering with scent.

Henry is related to Mrs. Stubbs, we think. He’s either her brother or her kitten. We don’t know what happened to Henry, but he’s loving and loyal, but lashes out, so he’s only barely touchable under his own terms. He is not pettable, and takes his job as security very seriously. He’s smart, noble and a very good boy.