So if my last blog post hasn't scared you off, and you still want to learn to make soap, here is a more detailed list of steps to follow to help you succeed:
1. Read everything you can on the subject online. Read the tutorials, and watch the videos on Youtube. Then take about half of what you read with a grain of salt. What works for some folks might not work for others. Some instructions aren't complete or specific enough, so they only provide enough info to cause a problem. About the only thing I would take seriously 100% of the time are the safety precautions. Also, consider the source. Make sure that the person whose advice you are reading actually has years of experience in making really good soap. Even after you become an expert, keep up to speed by continuing to read new material posted online.
2. Go to the library and check out every book on soap making. Before reading a book, go online and read the reviews. Soap makers will comment on what they agree with in the book, what they disagree with and why. Few books are perfect. A lot of the old books contain advice that has since been discounted. Some contain outright errors, such as instructing you to add water to lye. When making soap, NEVER ADD WATER TO LYE! ALWAYS ADD LYE TO WATER! If you add water to lye, it will cause a chemical reaction similar to a volcano. Not only will your lye solution shoot out of your container, but you could get burned. If you read both the book and the reviews, a more clear picture will begin to emerge. If you read several books this way, the picture will become clearer.
3. Figure out where you will store you tools and equipment. Some essential oils and base soap making oils keep their quality longer when stored within certain temperature ranges. My tools and equipment started in a kitchen cupboard, then they took over a room in the house.
4. Decide on your method. The two main methods are hot process and cold process. Hot process involves cooking the soap until it is fully saponified. It can be used the same day it is made, but for some reason it really seems to be milder after a couple of weeks. Cold process soap is simply stirred together until it reaches a stage called "trace" and then poured in molds to continue the saponification process over several weeks. Usually the soap cannot be touched with bare skin for at least a week, and then it still needs several weeks to become mild enough for use. Newcomers often start with hot process because they can try their new soap sooner.
5. Pick your formula. When starting out, skip the fancy color swirls and fragrances, (unless you decide to start with melt and pour.) Most people recommend starting with an ultra simple, quick tracing formula with few ingredients. As you go through steps 1 and 2, you may find that a few formulas seemed simpler than the rest. Also, start out with smaller batches. Keep them down to about one pound or 500 grams of base oils until you get the hang of it.
6. Begin assembling your tools and materials. This is not as easy as it sounds. People tend to start with equipment that they find in their kitchen, and discover that once something has been used to make soap, it can no longer be used for food. I recommend using the cheapest tools you can find until you discover whether you will be making soap regularly. Use kitchen tools that you were planning on replacing anyway. Do not use aluminum! It reacts with lye. Some people recommend glass, wood and plastic, but all of these things become lye- damaged over time. Wood will splinter, glass etches and eventually breaks, and plastic - well it's the best option of the three. I just don't prefer plastic. I used an old crock-pot for hot process soap making, but found the lye dissolved the glaze over time. Fragrance oils and cosmetic colorants are also hard on equipment including plastic mixing bowls and spoons.
With the exception of soap molds, in my opinion, stainless steel works best in the long term. It's possible to find old stainless steel pots at the thrift store, and they work fine. Restaurant supply stores sell stainless steel receptacles in a variety of shapes and sizes. One of my favorite soap making tools is a long handled, stainless steel spoon, designed for stirring really huge pots in commercial kitchens. I use it to stir the lye into the water, and the length of the handle helps keep my face away from the lye fumes. It's also great for stirring 5 gallon buckets of handmade laundry soap.
The raw materials can also be a little tough to find. At first, a beginner might prefer to stick with materials they can find locally rather than going online. Non-hydrogenated palm oil can be found under the name brand Spectrum Organic Shortening. An acceptable coconut oil can be found under the LouAna brand name.
Lye is a bit trickier. It isn't as easy to find as it once was. Some "lye" drain openers also contain extra ingredients such as aluminum flakes which you do not want in your soap - and this isn't immediately apparent from reading the label in the store. You may have to do some research online to find 100% pure lye.
Stick blenders tend to be something that many soap makers won't do without because they speed trace. Many soap makers never touch a stick blender though. I recommend starting with a faster tracing formula to start out with. An example of a slow tracing formula is one that uses 100% olive oil, which can take hours to come to a trace.
The one thing that you must have is an accurate digital scale and extra batteries. People measured their ingredients by volume in the old days, but weight is the best way to get an accurate lye ratio.
7. Once you have the book knowledge, tools and ingredients, mentally think the whole process through step by step. Sometimes in soap making you need to be able to react quickly. You might want to make sure you'll be able to get the dogs and cats out from underfoot, and you know ahead of time what you'll do in the event of a spill. Can you quickly get to a shower? Do you have enough bowls and containers to weigh and measure all of your ingredients? Do you have a dust mask to wear while measuring your lye? Inhaling lye particles can be very uncomfortable.
8. After mentally rehearsing, prepare your work area. You'll need to cover your work space with newspapers. If you keep things like toasters and coffee makers on your kitchen counter like I do, consider covering them with clean trash bags while making soap to protect them. Make sure all your equipment, tools and ingredients are at hand.
9. After making and enjoying your first batch of soap, if you want to try making more, proceed with developing your skills. Try different simple formulas in small batches. (In fact, most of the time, it's a good idea to make a small batch any time you try a new formula or technique for the first time.) Experiment with single oils to get a feel for how each oil creates a different texture. Make a small batch of all-coconut soap, a batch of all-lard, a batch of all-sunflower oil, etc., so you can see how the different oils process differently and lend different properties to a soap's hardness, cleansing ability,and the quality of the lather. As you begin working with color and fragrance, continue making small batches in order to see how different ingredients speed or slow trace. Learn to identify and deal with issues such as false trace and ricing. As your skills improve, you'll also begin to develop your own style.
10. Start developing your own formulas. People who are considered master soap makers don't just copy other people's formulas. They design their own. You might start by exactly following a formula from a book or online, then tweaking it to your individual preference. As time goes by, you'll being using your creativity and originality to create totally unique formulas.
It is possible to make a very simple batch of soap after watching one Youtube video, and without doing a whole lot of research, reading soap making lists, or spending hours on soap making supply websites. You can always do it that way, and if in the process you get bitten by the "soap bug," you may find that you'll go through the above steps anyway.
Good luck!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Why I've Decided Against Giving Soap Making Lessons, or "Have Lye, Will Not Travel"
Over the past year, a few people have indicated that they would be interested in learning how to make soap. I tend to prefer to say "yes" anytime something is asked of me, especially by friends. But the prospect of teaching soap brings up feelings of discomfort, for several reasons.
(The blah-blah below the fold is nothing more than a bunch of excuses. The fact is that things are so hectic right now that I don't have time to teach anything to anyone except my own children. Five years from now, probably I'll be begging for people who want to swap workshops. )
Back in the mid-1990's I went to a massage therapy school, and one of the classes offered in the program was on essential oils and aromatherapy. I had been a consumer of essential oils and since taking the class I've done some independent study on the subject.(Tisserand is my hero.) This was the only course I've ever taken on essential oils, and I don't consider myself a professional aromatherapist by any stretch of the imagination. I just know what I like.
The class covered techniques for blending essential oils in massage oil to enhance massage therapy. We discussed which oils are indicated for relaxation, for improving mood, for increasing energy and concentration, etc. We were given some recipes for some essential oil blends, which included the number of drops to add to a specific volume of oil. I don't remember anything at all about safety, sensitization, or toxicity. Maybe they taught it, but I mostly remember glowing accounts of the amazing powers of natural essential oils.
Don't get me wrong - essential oils are wonderful. They have many uses and can be a wonderful addition to daily life. But they can be harmful if not diluted safely. I learned this firsthand by mixing my own perfume some years ago - and applying the undiluted work in progress directly to my hand each day for several weeks as the formula evolved. A rash emerged on the skin, called sensitization, that now appears every time the spot comes into direct contact with most essential oils. It helps to protect the area by covering it whenever I work with undiluted essential oils. Things would be easier now if I had followed proper safety precautions from the beginning.
I do have this concern that I will teach a class, and even if I clearly describe and demonstrate safety precautions, someone will go home, create a lye volcano and burn themselves. Mothers have been saying for years, "You'll poke your eyes out," and people chuckle, but this is lye. It can burn the eyes. People have gotten lye into their eyes, irrigated for several minutes, went to the emergency room, and it turned out fine. That time. A few months ago a soap maker circulated pictures of a toddler who grabbed a container of lye water, badly burning her face and the front of her body. Within a few months and with medical care she was completely healed with no scarring. That time. I certainly wouldn't want to underestimate the possibility that a mishap might turn out badly. How would the person who taught that aromatherapy class all those years ago feel if she knew that a student only took that one class, didn't take away sufficient safety information, and harmed themselves? I realize I am responsible for what happened. Still, no one wants to think that they didn't cover the safety precautions thoroughly enough.
So there's one reason. Another is that I don't understand another person's motives and expectations. Why do they want to learn how to make soap? Here are some potential reasons to want to make soap:
"I'm crafty and I like to make things." To someone who says this, I would suggest that they try a melt and pour soap kit from a craft store. They may not need to hassle with lye to have a satisfying experience.
"I prefer to recycle as much as possible, and I don't like throwing out the fat when I cook meat. I hate unnecessary waste. I remember my Grandma used to save all the bacon grease in a crock on the stove, and make all of our laundry soap with it." It is possible to make a good soap with animal tallow from fresh fat scraps. The fat must be cleaned, which is labor intensive. The soap will turn out better if other oils are added, in my opinion. It's helpful to learn about the different soap making oils and fats, such as coconut, palm, olive, etc., because they all lend different properties to the soap, and the oils are selected depending on what you plan to use the soap for. I make a laundry soap that is processed with some beef tallow, but it also contains coconut oil and other fats. The current formula, developed through trial and error, cleans better than earlier attempts. A vegan soap made from coconut oil is effective, but too bubbly for my high efficiency washing machine.
"I want to do it like the pioneers did it." You'll need to make a caustic solution using a barrel or bucket filled with wood ashes. It's labor intensive. Then you'll need to render fat, did I mention that it's labor intensive? You'll need to cook the soap solution in a large cauldron over a fire. Without using the tools we have available today, such as electronic PH probes and digital scales, it is very difficult to control PH with this method. Without the safety equipment we use nowadays, it could be dangerous. In the old days, people learned to make soap from their elders and adjusted their methods through trial and error. The resulting soap was nothing like the soap we use today. I've never personally tried this, and I'm not about to any time soon.
"I dislike depending on the huge conglomerate companies for soap every time I bathe. I want to know exactly what is in my soap, have some control over it. I want to know how to do it myself." I totally get this individualistic approach. But someone with this type of motivation might like to know that just like you don't need Proctor and Gamble to take a bath, you don't need a teacher to make soap. There are tons of books in the library, and hundreds of tutorials on the Internet. Just do your research thoroughly before you get started. Also, know that some of the older books contain opinions and ideas about soap making that have since been discounted. I've noticed that people will even spout misinformation on online soap making lists and communities. The only solution to all this confusion is plenty of experience. Read everything you can find, and a clear picture will emerge.
"I like to use herbs and essential oils in my daily life, and would like to add these to my own hand made bath and body concoctions, including soap. I want to make soap for my family as an expression of love." Personally this is what I like best about soap making. I make what I love for myself and my family. I made a soap for my husband that positively makes me drool every time I smell it on him. I ask my children what kind of soap they want, and lovingly prepare it for them. Want a bubble gum-scented Castile-type soap? You've got it! Have you noticed that a certain formula works better on your skin, or does a better job of controlling odor? - I'll make it again - just for you! You'll need a fair amount of knowledge about herbs and essential oils before you get started, then you'll discover how these ingredients are affected by heat and PH. It's a steep learning curve but can be very satisfying.
"I want to make all-natural soap because natural is always better than all those chemicals!" Whoah there. Did you know that everything in Nature is made of chemicals? Did you know that many of the substances found in Nature are toxic? Just about everything on the planet can be toxic when exposure levels are high enough. Did you know that broccoli and potatoes contain toxins? Yes, it's true, some of the synthetic ingredients which are produced in a lab can be harmful. It's important to research and use common sense. Because I dislike our seemingly slavish dependence on petroleum-based products, I personally strive to avoid detergents which are synthesized from petroleum products. (Besides, my skin doesn't like detergents.) I also avoid fragrances which contain trace amounts of phthalates, because even though it's controversial, and they have been shown to pass through the body harmlessly, plenty of luscious fragrances are available without them. Fragrance oils are generally made from both natural and synthetic compounds, and have some advantages. I don't discount ALL ingredients and compounds which are produced in a lab. Synthetics can sometimes be better for the environment or less toxic to humans than their natural counterparts. It would be easier if we could always just say that all-natural is always better, but in my opinion it's not that simple.
"I love really good, luxurious soap, and I want the best. I want to make soaps that contain the best ingredients." This is another reason I make my own soap. I have always loved the finest soaps. Keep in mind that the best ingredients are very expensive. For me, it's a lot like cooking. If you've been cooking for many years, your personal taste in food will influence your recipes and the ingredients you choose. I find that when I go out to eat, I am sometimes disappointed because I prefer my own cooking. Soap can be like that too.
"I want to save money by making my own soap." Actually, it's not really cheaper to make your own soap than it is to wait until the brand you like goes on sale. By the time you buy the lye, electronic scale, the fats, oils and scent, you will have spent a lot of money. Plus, once you use a pot or spoon from your kitchen for soap making, it's not advised that you cook food with it again, so you'll need new kitchen equipment. Then you'll be tempted with all those gorgeous soap molds out there, and the next thing you know you are taking out a second mortgage on your house! Soap costs what it does. If you want to save money, stop downloading porn on pay-per-view. (Just kidding.)
Actually it is possible to save money on soap making ingredients by buying in bulk. However, ingredients go bad if they are not used before they expire. While some soaps formulas improve for years as they age, some go rancid months or years after they are made. Shelf life is affected by many factors.
In order to use up that much bulk material, it might seem to make sense to sell the soap. I have sold some soap, which has helped to offset some of my expenses but haven't come close to making a profit. If I had sufficient capital to start a real hand crafted soap making business, it would be years before it became profitable. I do not believe it is possible to make a living making and selling soap until one has been making soap for a number of years. This is because it can take years to develop the proprietary formulas. It's necessary to understand how the soap ages and what is the shelf life of your finished product. It's necessary to be able to reproduce the same formula again and again, with little discernible difference between batches. All of this takes a lot of time and practice. As a professional hand crafted soap maker, an individual represents an industry, and one bad soap maker can turn potential customers away from ever buying soap from anyone else. It's a huge commitment, and while I don't want to discourage anyone from doing it, I don't believe it's reasonable that anyone make their first batch of soap and depend on selling it six weeks later. Consider this: the first time a person sets foot in the kitchen and makes their first batch of brownies, they aren't quite a master chef - yet. No matter how delicious those brownies turned out.
I still think, a bit wistfully, that I'd like to start a full time, professional hand crafted bath and body business one day. However, there are many obstacles in the way, and if I ever do it, it will take years to get there. For now, I'll continue making all the soap, scent, deodorant and balms and salves my family uses, developing my formulas and processes, and selling a bit from the better batches on Etsy to recoup some of the costs. If anyone wants to learn how to make soap, I recommend they do what I did - read, study, research, plan, and eventually, when you are ready, give it a try - while judiciously observing safety precautions!
(The blah-blah below the fold is nothing more than a bunch of excuses. The fact is that things are so hectic right now that I don't have time to teach anything to anyone except my own children. Five years from now, probably I'll be begging for people who want to swap workshops. )
Back in the mid-1990's I went to a massage therapy school, and one of the classes offered in the program was on essential oils and aromatherapy. I had been a consumer of essential oils and since taking the class I've done some independent study on the subject.(Tisserand is my hero.) This was the only course I've ever taken on essential oils, and I don't consider myself a professional aromatherapist by any stretch of the imagination. I just know what I like.
The class covered techniques for blending essential oils in massage oil to enhance massage therapy. We discussed which oils are indicated for relaxation, for improving mood, for increasing energy and concentration, etc. We were given some recipes for some essential oil blends, which included the number of drops to add to a specific volume of oil. I don't remember anything at all about safety, sensitization, or toxicity. Maybe they taught it, but I mostly remember glowing accounts of the amazing powers of natural essential oils.
Don't get me wrong - essential oils are wonderful. They have many uses and can be a wonderful addition to daily life. But they can be harmful if not diluted safely. I learned this firsthand by mixing my own perfume some years ago - and applying the undiluted work in progress directly to my hand each day for several weeks as the formula evolved. A rash emerged on the skin, called sensitization, that now appears every time the spot comes into direct contact with most essential oils. It helps to protect the area by covering it whenever I work with undiluted essential oils. Things would be easier now if I had followed proper safety precautions from the beginning.
I do have this concern that I will teach a class, and even if I clearly describe and demonstrate safety precautions, someone will go home, create a lye volcano and burn themselves. Mothers have been saying for years, "You'll poke your eyes out," and people chuckle, but this is lye. It can burn the eyes. People have gotten lye into their eyes, irrigated for several minutes, went to the emergency room, and it turned out fine. That time. A few months ago a soap maker circulated pictures of a toddler who grabbed a container of lye water, badly burning her face and the front of her body. Within a few months and with medical care she was completely healed with no scarring. That time. I certainly wouldn't want to underestimate the possibility that a mishap might turn out badly. How would the person who taught that aromatherapy class all those years ago feel if she knew that a student only took that one class, didn't take away sufficient safety information, and harmed themselves? I realize I am responsible for what happened. Still, no one wants to think that they didn't cover the safety precautions thoroughly enough.
So there's one reason. Another is that I don't understand another person's motives and expectations. Why do they want to learn how to make soap? Here are some potential reasons to want to make soap:
"I'm crafty and I like to make things." To someone who says this, I would suggest that they try a melt and pour soap kit from a craft store. They may not need to hassle with lye to have a satisfying experience.
"I prefer to recycle as much as possible, and I don't like throwing out the fat when I cook meat. I hate unnecessary waste. I remember my Grandma used to save all the bacon grease in a crock on the stove, and make all of our laundry soap with it." It is possible to make a good soap with animal tallow from fresh fat scraps. The fat must be cleaned, which is labor intensive. The soap will turn out better if other oils are added, in my opinion. It's helpful to learn about the different soap making oils and fats, such as coconut, palm, olive, etc., because they all lend different properties to the soap, and the oils are selected depending on what you plan to use the soap for. I make a laundry soap that is processed with some beef tallow, but it also contains coconut oil and other fats. The current formula, developed through trial and error, cleans better than earlier attempts. A vegan soap made from coconut oil is effective, but too bubbly for my high efficiency washing machine.
"I want to do it like the pioneers did it." You'll need to make a caustic solution using a barrel or bucket filled with wood ashes. It's labor intensive. Then you'll need to render fat, did I mention that it's labor intensive? You'll need to cook the soap solution in a large cauldron over a fire. Without using the tools we have available today, such as electronic PH probes and digital scales, it is very difficult to control PH with this method. Without the safety equipment we use nowadays, it could be dangerous. In the old days, people learned to make soap from their elders and adjusted their methods through trial and error. The resulting soap was nothing like the soap we use today. I've never personally tried this, and I'm not about to any time soon.
"I dislike depending on the huge conglomerate companies for soap every time I bathe. I want to know exactly what is in my soap, have some control over it. I want to know how to do it myself." I totally get this individualistic approach. But someone with this type of motivation might like to know that just like you don't need Proctor and Gamble to take a bath, you don't need a teacher to make soap. There are tons of books in the library, and hundreds of tutorials on the Internet. Just do your research thoroughly before you get started. Also, know that some of the older books contain opinions and ideas about soap making that have since been discounted. I've noticed that people will even spout misinformation on online soap making lists and communities. The only solution to all this confusion is plenty of experience. Read everything you can find, and a clear picture will emerge.
"I like to use herbs and essential oils in my daily life, and would like to add these to my own hand made bath and body concoctions, including soap. I want to make soap for my family as an expression of love." Personally this is what I like best about soap making. I make what I love for myself and my family. I made a soap for my husband that positively makes me drool every time I smell it on him. I ask my children what kind of soap they want, and lovingly prepare it for them. Want a bubble gum-scented Castile-type soap? You've got it! Have you noticed that a certain formula works better on your skin, or does a better job of controlling odor? - I'll make it again - just for you! You'll need a fair amount of knowledge about herbs and essential oils before you get started, then you'll discover how these ingredients are affected by heat and PH. It's a steep learning curve but can be very satisfying.
"I want to make all-natural soap because natural is always better than all those chemicals!" Whoah there. Did you know that everything in Nature is made of chemicals? Did you know that many of the substances found in Nature are toxic? Just about everything on the planet can be toxic when exposure levels are high enough. Did you know that broccoli and potatoes contain toxins? Yes, it's true, some of the synthetic ingredients which are produced in a lab can be harmful. It's important to research and use common sense. Because I dislike our seemingly slavish dependence on petroleum-based products, I personally strive to avoid detergents which are synthesized from petroleum products. (Besides, my skin doesn't like detergents.) I also avoid fragrances which contain trace amounts of phthalates, because even though it's controversial, and they have been shown to pass through the body harmlessly, plenty of luscious fragrances are available without them. Fragrance oils are generally made from both natural and synthetic compounds, and have some advantages. I don't discount ALL ingredients and compounds which are produced in a lab. Synthetics can sometimes be better for the environment or less toxic to humans than their natural counterparts. It would be easier if we could always just say that all-natural is always better, but in my opinion it's not that simple.
"I love really good, luxurious soap, and I want the best. I want to make soaps that contain the best ingredients." This is another reason I make my own soap. I have always loved the finest soaps. Keep in mind that the best ingredients are very expensive. For me, it's a lot like cooking. If you've been cooking for many years, your personal taste in food will influence your recipes and the ingredients you choose. I find that when I go out to eat, I am sometimes disappointed because I prefer my own cooking. Soap can be like that too.
"I want to save money by making my own soap." Actually, it's not really cheaper to make your own soap than it is to wait until the brand you like goes on sale. By the time you buy the lye, electronic scale, the fats, oils and scent, you will have spent a lot of money. Plus, once you use a pot or spoon from your kitchen for soap making, it's not advised that you cook food with it again, so you'll need new kitchen equipment. Then you'll be tempted with all those gorgeous soap molds out there, and the next thing you know you are taking out a second mortgage on your house! Soap costs what it does. If you want to save money, stop downloading porn on pay-per-view. (Just kidding.)
Actually it is possible to save money on soap making ingredients by buying in bulk. However, ingredients go bad if they are not used before they expire. While some soaps formulas improve for years as they age, some go rancid months or years after they are made. Shelf life is affected by many factors.
In order to use up that much bulk material, it might seem to make sense to sell the soap. I have sold some soap, which has helped to offset some of my expenses but haven't come close to making a profit. If I had sufficient capital to start a real hand crafted soap making business, it would be years before it became profitable. I do not believe it is possible to make a living making and selling soap until one has been making soap for a number of years. This is because it can take years to develop the proprietary formulas. It's necessary to understand how the soap ages and what is the shelf life of your finished product. It's necessary to be able to reproduce the same formula again and again, with little discernible difference between batches. All of this takes a lot of time and practice. As a professional hand crafted soap maker, an individual represents an industry, and one bad soap maker can turn potential customers away from ever buying soap from anyone else. It's a huge commitment, and while I don't want to discourage anyone from doing it, I don't believe it's reasonable that anyone make their first batch of soap and depend on selling it six weeks later. Consider this: the first time a person sets foot in the kitchen and makes their first batch of brownies, they aren't quite a master chef - yet. No matter how delicious those brownies turned out.
I still think, a bit wistfully, that I'd like to start a full time, professional hand crafted bath and body business one day. However, there are many obstacles in the way, and if I ever do it, it will take years to get there. For now, I'll continue making all the soap, scent, deodorant and balms and salves my family uses, developing my formulas and processes, and selling a bit from the better batches on Etsy to recoup some of the costs. If anyone wants to learn how to make soap, I recommend they do what I did - read, study, research, plan, and eventually, when you are ready, give it a try - while judiciously observing safety precautions!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The DOS Initiation
The soap that I thought had Dreaded Orange Spots, (DOS) has turned out to be one of the best soaps I’ve ever made. The scent is intoxicating, the lather luxurious, and it leaves my skin feeling conditioned and pliant. It’s so good, in fact, that I’m saving it. There are five bars left, and I plan to enjoy them, one by one, observing how they change over several months. I don’t even know if they ever really had DOS, or if the discoloration was caused by something else. I cut the spots away, and the remaining soap is luxurious and soothing to my skin.
But I did have another incident of DOS that was rather embarrassing – so much that I hesitate to tell the story. On the soap lists, I’ve seen several soap makers claim they’ve never had DOS, and I tend to wonder if that’s true or if they are simply attempting to cultivate the reputation of a Superior Soapcrafter. Next they’ll be saying they’ve never had to rebatch a botched soap!
Here is the thing about soap making – you can read the books and the websites, watch the tutorials, lurk on the lists – but when it comes right down to it, there is simply nothing like experience. Several times I made a stupid mistake, and then realized that it was the exact unwanted the result I was warned about in a book or on a list. And I’m usually a pretty quick study.
In addition to the rapture of luxury soap and the romance of DIY, I am also motivated by thrift. I’ve thrown away so many pounds of animal fat from cooking and paid so much money for good soap! So it was only natural that during my first soap making adventures I thought it would be a good opportunity to use up that old shortening in the pantry and those essential oils lying around the house. I don’t use shortening much anymore, and it smelled slightly stale. But I figured, it’s only soap, right?
Wrong. Within weeks the soap made from the shortening had developed orange spots. To my chagrin I had given some of it away to friends, and I can only hope that they used it up before the spots appeared. Once I saw the orange spots, I considered throwing it away, but then I thought it might improve if I rebatched it with some fresh oils. It didn’t. The oxidation that caused the DOS simply spread to the new batch like leprosy.
Months later, I decided to grate a bar of the rebatched DOS soap and use it to make laundry soap. I even added extra lye to compensate for the extra “happy skin” oils in the soap. At first it was okay, but as I got down to the bottom of the bucket, a weird thing started to happen to my laundry. It started to come out of the dryer smelling like cooking oil – this despite the fact that I always add fragrant essential oils to the wash. For weeks my underwear smelled like it belongs to a fry cook. I finally fixed the problem with a new batch of laundry soap made with fresh ingredients and 0% super fat, and a very heavy dose of floral fragrance oil. This made my underwear smell like it belongs to an exotic dancer, which is much better than a fry cook.
Just now, cleaning out the closet where I store my soap making supplies, I came across the last three bars of DOS soap. The original essential oil fragrance has faded, and strangely, so has the stale oil smell. The bars are hard, and the DOS actually looks rather interesting. I had cut the soap with a steel guitar string, and the DOS made curved streaks in the soap, following the lines cut with the string. I washed my hands with it, and the lather is extraordinarily creamy. My skin felt comfortable after using the soap. The stale smell is there – faintly – but it’s really not offensive and it’s blunted by a mild soapy smell. It isn’t a fragrance I would strive for, and it’s not something I would use to prepare for a night out with my husband, but it’s not bad enough to make me want to wash my hands with something else to get rid of the odor. I placed it on my kitchen soap dish. Even now that I have plenty of soap, I still don’t want to waste any.
These days, when I read on the lists where a new soap maker wants to rebatch a soap with DOS or use it to make laundry soap, I think about warning them. Then I decide against it. First off, what happened to me might not happen to them. I really don’t know. And secondly, if it does happen, there is nothing like the experience to really understand the process. It’s like an initiation.
But I did have another incident of DOS that was rather embarrassing – so much that I hesitate to tell the story. On the soap lists, I’ve seen several soap makers claim they’ve never had DOS, and I tend to wonder if that’s true or if they are simply attempting to cultivate the reputation of a Superior Soapcrafter. Next they’ll be saying they’ve never had to rebatch a botched soap!
Here is the thing about soap making – you can read the books and the websites, watch the tutorials, lurk on the lists – but when it comes right down to it, there is simply nothing like experience. Several times I made a stupid mistake, and then realized that it was the exact unwanted the result I was warned about in a book or on a list. And I’m usually a pretty quick study.
In addition to the rapture of luxury soap and the romance of DIY, I am also motivated by thrift. I’ve thrown away so many pounds of animal fat from cooking and paid so much money for good soap! So it was only natural that during my first soap making adventures I thought it would be a good opportunity to use up that old shortening in the pantry and those essential oils lying around the house. I don’t use shortening much anymore, and it smelled slightly stale. But I figured, it’s only soap, right?
Wrong. Within weeks the soap made from the shortening had developed orange spots. To my chagrin I had given some of it away to friends, and I can only hope that they used it up before the spots appeared. Once I saw the orange spots, I considered throwing it away, but then I thought it might improve if I rebatched it with some fresh oils. It didn’t. The oxidation that caused the DOS simply spread to the new batch like leprosy.
Months later, I decided to grate a bar of the rebatched DOS soap and use it to make laundry soap. I even added extra lye to compensate for the extra “happy skin” oils in the soap. At first it was okay, but as I got down to the bottom of the bucket, a weird thing started to happen to my laundry. It started to come out of the dryer smelling like cooking oil – this despite the fact that I always add fragrant essential oils to the wash. For weeks my underwear smelled like it belongs to a fry cook. I finally fixed the problem with a new batch of laundry soap made with fresh ingredients and 0% super fat, and a very heavy dose of floral fragrance oil. This made my underwear smell like it belongs to an exotic dancer, which is much better than a fry cook.
Just now, cleaning out the closet where I store my soap making supplies, I came across the last three bars of DOS soap. The original essential oil fragrance has faded, and strangely, so has the stale oil smell. The bars are hard, and the DOS actually looks rather interesting. I had cut the soap with a steel guitar string, and the DOS made curved streaks in the soap, following the lines cut with the string. I washed my hands with it, and the lather is extraordinarily creamy. My skin felt comfortable after using the soap. The stale smell is there – faintly – but it’s really not offensive and it’s blunted by a mild soapy smell. It isn’t a fragrance I would strive for, and it’s not something I would use to prepare for a night out with my husband, but it’s not bad enough to make me want to wash my hands with something else to get rid of the odor. I placed it on my kitchen soap dish. Even now that I have plenty of soap, I still don’t want to waste any.
These days, when I read on the lists where a new soap maker wants to rebatch a soap with DOS or use it to make laundry soap, I think about warning them. Then I decide against it. First off, what happened to me might not happen to them. I really don’t know. And secondly, if it does happen, there is nothing like the experience to really understand the process. It’s like an initiation.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Taming the Rowdy Lemongrass, or: Does It Smell Like Spring Yet?
Nearly one month ago, I made the spring equinox soap base and set it aside to cure. Last week I grated it and started making the essential oil blend.
I did some calculations on paper, and contemplated how to create essential oil harmony with top, middle and base notes. I got out the bottles of essential oil, a little scale and some droppers and got to work.
When I think of spring, I think of spring cleaning. When I think of spring cleaning, I think of lavender, lemongrass, and tea tree. So I figured this would be easy.
The tea tree wasn’t in yet, so I started with top notes of lemongrass and sage, a middle note of lavender, and a base blend of stryax benzoin, vanilla and patchouli.
And here is what I learned: Essential oil of lemongrass plus essential oil of vanilla equals “gag me.” It smelled exactly like that crappy lemon lollipop the pediatrician gives your kid on the way out of the doctor’s office. I added more lavender and sage, but it did not mellow that lemongrass note.
It was late and I was tired, so I figured there was still time to balance it out later. The only thing I was certain of was that I would NOT be adding more lemongrass or vanilla to the blend.
So today I put the grated soap in a big stock pot with some strong Sleepytime herbal tea, and placed in the oven to melt. (Why Sleepytime tea? Because it smells yummy, that’s why.) I set out the “happy skin oils” of almond, jojoba, and vitamin E. Then I got out the essential oil blend and got back to work on it. I tested it, and the lemon lollipop scent had backed down just a bit, but not nearly enough.
The tea tree oil has been delivered but I’m not satisfied with the source and therefore uncertain of the quality. I will use it to clean my house, but not put it in soap for my friends.
A bit more lavender went into the blend first. That didn’t seem to help much. So then I tried some eucalyptus, which blends well with lemongrass and lavender. It helped some, but it still wasn’t right. Next, I tried a bit of clary sage. That did punch it up a bit. Next, I added a bit more patch, just to keep it tied down. What was really needed was a floral note, but the geranium and ylang ylang hasn’t been delivered yet, and I’m not sure it will do the trick anyway. So I added a tiny bit of rosewood, because it was there. And finally, I weighed out some cajeput to take the place of the missing tea tree.
Each time I added a little something I wafted the fragrance toward my face, and asked myself, “Does it smell like spring yet?” Finally after the cajeput, I realized that to me it smells exactly like a chocolate Easter rabbit. Actually, it smells like the whole Easter basket, including marshmallow Peeps and dinosaur eggs. At least it doesn’t smell like a crappy lemon sucker anymore.
As I write this, I cannot believe it, so I went back to the blend and tested it again. Yes. Easter basket. Definitely. Do you remember those pink egg shaped candies with the marshmallow center? It reminds me of that. It smells kind of cheerful.
Either my nose has gone on strike, or it’s time for lunch.
Edit: Six hours later I sniffed it again. It is definitely yummy and uplifting. I believe the chocolate and candy hints come from the vanilla and lemongrass, but it's more complex. The lavender is calming, the eucalyptus invigorating, and the patchouli is sensuous. Perfect for waking Mother Earth from her winter's slumber.
Next morning: The soap smells heavenly - good enough to eat, and the lemongrass, while still present, is finally tame. It took a while to get there.
Late yesterday afternoon, after slowly melting the soap all day with the herbal tea, I finally turned it out into the soap bowl and stirred in the "happy skin oils" and essential oils. The soap is mottled in appearance because it was melted gently with as little liquid as possible. Some of the soap pieces didn't melt completely. So the tea darkened the melted soap to a tan shade, leaving pieces of soap lighter in color. It's rather interesting, I think.
At first I was a bit concerned. The soap was very hot, and the tea smell was a bit overpowering - a bit "roasty toasty," like a strong chicory drink. Michael wrinkled his nose and said he didn't like it. I said we should wait until it cools, give it time to dry, before we decide.
Last night, I didn't sleep well. My goal is to have a batch of spring equinox soap ready by March 1. If this batch doesn't turn out, I would need to make another one. It is now February 4, which means the soap would have a shorter cure time. It would still be okay, but not optimal. I got out of bed this morning ready to start a new hot process spring batch right away.
This morning, I was thrilled. It smells good enough to eat. I turned it out of the mold, hand-scored it and sliced it with a kitchen knife. The invigorating aroma of lemongrass and eucalyptus is tempered by the tea, and the fragrances seem to balance and compliment each other. Every so often I go and turn the bars, like a chicken clucking over her eggs.
I did some calculations on paper, and contemplated how to create essential oil harmony with top, middle and base notes. I got out the bottles of essential oil, a little scale and some droppers and got to work.
When I think of spring, I think of spring cleaning. When I think of spring cleaning, I think of lavender, lemongrass, and tea tree. So I figured this would be easy.
The tea tree wasn’t in yet, so I started with top notes of lemongrass and sage, a middle note of lavender, and a base blend of stryax benzoin, vanilla and patchouli.
And here is what I learned: Essential oil of lemongrass plus essential oil of vanilla equals “gag me.” It smelled exactly like that crappy lemon lollipop the pediatrician gives your kid on the way out of the doctor’s office. I added more lavender and sage, but it did not mellow that lemongrass note.
It was late and I was tired, so I figured there was still time to balance it out later. The only thing I was certain of was that I would NOT be adding more lemongrass or vanilla to the blend.
So today I put the grated soap in a big stock pot with some strong Sleepytime herbal tea, and placed in the oven to melt. (Why Sleepytime tea? Because it smells yummy, that’s why.) I set out the “happy skin oils” of almond, jojoba, and vitamin E. Then I got out the essential oil blend and got back to work on it. I tested it, and the lemon lollipop scent had backed down just a bit, but not nearly enough.
The tea tree oil has been delivered but I’m not satisfied with the source and therefore uncertain of the quality. I will use it to clean my house, but not put it in soap for my friends.
A bit more lavender went into the blend first. That didn’t seem to help much. So then I tried some eucalyptus, which blends well with lemongrass and lavender. It helped some, but it still wasn’t right. Next, I tried a bit of clary sage. That did punch it up a bit. Next, I added a bit more patch, just to keep it tied down. What was really needed was a floral note, but the geranium and ylang ylang hasn’t been delivered yet, and I’m not sure it will do the trick anyway. So I added a tiny bit of rosewood, because it was there. And finally, I weighed out some cajeput to take the place of the missing tea tree.
Each time I added a little something I wafted the fragrance toward my face, and asked myself, “Does it smell like spring yet?” Finally after the cajeput, I realized that to me it smells exactly like a chocolate Easter rabbit. Actually, it smells like the whole Easter basket, including marshmallow Peeps and dinosaur eggs. At least it doesn’t smell like a crappy lemon sucker anymore.
As I write this, I cannot believe it, so I went back to the blend and tested it again. Yes. Easter basket. Definitely. Do you remember those pink egg shaped candies with the marshmallow center? It reminds me of that. It smells kind of cheerful.
Either my nose has gone on strike, or it’s time for lunch.
Edit: Six hours later I sniffed it again. It is definitely yummy and uplifting. I believe the chocolate and candy hints come from the vanilla and lemongrass, but it's more complex. The lavender is calming, the eucalyptus invigorating, and the patchouli is sensuous. Perfect for waking Mother Earth from her winter's slumber.
Next morning: The soap smells heavenly - good enough to eat, and the lemongrass, while still present, is finally tame. It took a while to get there.
Late yesterday afternoon, after slowly melting the soap all day with the herbal tea, I finally turned it out into the soap bowl and stirred in the "happy skin oils" and essential oils. The soap is mottled in appearance because it was melted gently with as little liquid as possible. Some of the soap pieces didn't melt completely. So the tea darkened the melted soap to a tan shade, leaving pieces of soap lighter in color. It's rather interesting, I think.
At first I was a bit concerned. The soap was very hot, and the tea smell was a bit overpowering - a bit "roasty toasty," like a strong chicory drink. Michael wrinkled his nose and said he didn't like it. I said we should wait until it cools, give it time to dry, before we decide.
Last night, I didn't sleep well. My goal is to have a batch of spring equinox soap ready by March 1. If this batch doesn't turn out, I would need to make another one. It is now February 4, which means the soap would have a shorter cure time. It would still be okay, but not optimal. I got out of bed this morning ready to start a new hot process spring batch right away.
This morning, I was thrilled. It smells good enough to eat. I turned it out of the mold, hand-scored it and sliced it with a kitchen knife. The invigorating aroma of lemongrass and eucalyptus is tempered by the tea, and the fragrances seem to balance and compliment each other. Every so often I go and turn the bars, like a chicken clucking over her eggs.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Easy, Peasy, Lemon-Squeezy
Yesterday's batch of soap was a breeze. Or, as my nine-year old likes to say, easy-peasy,lemon-squeezy. I timed myself. Deciding on ingredients and calculating the recipe took 15 minutes. Setting up and weighing the oils took an hour. Making the caustic solution took another 15 minutes. I did other things while the caustic solution cooled down, and it took less than a half hour to mix it together and process it into soap. The soap log rested overnight, and now it's in my kitchen, ready to be sliced and stored for curing.
The soap will be rebatched after the fragrance components have been blended. When the soap is finally finished, the total time invested will be significant.
It gets easier and better each time. These days, I spend far more time shopping out ingredients for soap than making it, and I'm making as much as ever.
Lately I've been thinking that if it takes months for a batch of soap to cure properly, and it also takes months for the volatile compounds in essential oils to dissipate from soap, perhaps rebatching is the best way to work with essential oils.
I'm starting to become more flexible about using fragrance oils, especially in harmony with essential oils, herbs, incense resins and spices. I have a bias against synthetic fragrance due to my massage therapy and aromatherapy training from many years ago. But in defense of synthetics, it's possible to find them without ingredients such as phthalates and musk xylene. Honestly, I think that all ingredients should be used with care, and I would like to be as informed as possible about the usage of every ingredient. In the end however, it's up to the person using the soap to decide if the ingredients are acceptable.
The other day at a natural foods store, I was examining the soap aisle. An all-natural, organic, essential-oil scented type was eight dollars per four-ounce bar. It had been on the shelf a while, and the scented was faded. My soap smells far better.
Right now, I'm grating a batch that I processed 16 days ago. It's going to rest in a large tray for another two weeks. Then I'll melt it down with a strong herbal tea, skin soothing oils and essential oils. After two weeks of drying, I'm hoping it will be acceptable.
I've been thinking about the soap I'll need through the end of summer, and getting it all made in early spring. By spring, I'll start making the fall soap. In summer, I'll start making the winter soaps. It's a bit of an adjustment. I prefer to make soap for what I'm feeling now. The reward for my effort will be a lovely soap that is ready in the season it was made for.
So, now that it's becoming so easy. I'm thinking about making it harder. Instead of rustic, unevenly sliced bars of bumpy looking soap, (bumpy but oh so nice on the skin,) maybe I should graduate to fancy soap molds? Should I enter the debate about adding sodium lactate or stearic acid to make the soap smoother and harder?
Hmmm.
And what is this obsession I have lately with containers? Yesterday I washed out a 32 oz bottle that had contained castor oil, and noticed that if I cut the top off, it would make a perfect mold for round soaps. Every plastic tub that contained any type of food is a potential lye measuring bowl, and the lids are spoon rests. Larger tubs are perfect storage containers for grated soap or infused oils.
It's madness, I tell you! And now, back to the kitchen, to grate more soap.
The soap will be rebatched after the fragrance components have been blended. When the soap is finally finished, the total time invested will be significant.
It gets easier and better each time. These days, I spend far more time shopping out ingredients for soap than making it, and I'm making as much as ever.
Lately I've been thinking that if it takes months for a batch of soap to cure properly, and it also takes months for the volatile compounds in essential oils to dissipate from soap, perhaps rebatching is the best way to work with essential oils.
I'm starting to become more flexible about using fragrance oils, especially in harmony with essential oils, herbs, incense resins and spices. I have a bias against synthetic fragrance due to my massage therapy and aromatherapy training from many years ago. But in defense of synthetics, it's possible to find them without ingredients such as phthalates and musk xylene. Honestly, I think that all ingredients should be used with care, and I would like to be as informed as possible about the usage of every ingredient. In the end however, it's up to the person using the soap to decide if the ingredients are acceptable.
The other day at a natural foods store, I was examining the soap aisle. An all-natural, organic, essential-oil scented type was eight dollars per four-ounce bar. It had been on the shelf a while, and the scented was faded. My soap smells far better.
Right now, I'm grating a batch that I processed 16 days ago. It's going to rest in a large tray for another two weeks. Then I'll melt it down with a strong herbal tea, skin soothing oils and essential oils. After two weeks of drying, I'm hoping it will be acceptable.
I've been thinking about the soap I'll need through the end of summer, and getting it all made in early spring. By spring, I'll start making the fall soap. In summer, I'll start making the winter soaps. It's a bit of an adjustment. I prefer to make soap for what I'm feeling now. The reward for my effort will be a lovely soap that is ready in the season it was made for.
So, now that it's becoming so easy. I'm thinking about making it harder. Instead of rustic, unevenly sliced bars of bumpy looking soap, (bumpy but oh so nice on the skin,) maybe I should graduate to fancy soap molds? Should I enter the debate about adding sodium lactate or stearic acid to make the soap smoother and harder?
Hmmm.
And what is this obsession I have lately with containers? Yesterday I washed out a 32 oz bottle that had contained castor oil, and noticed that if I cut the top off, it would make a perfect mold for round soaps. Every plastic tub that contained any type of food is a potential lye measuring bowl, and the lids are spoon rests. Larger tubs are perfect storage containers for grated soap or infused oils.
It's madness, I tell you! And now, back to the kitchen, to grate more soap.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Handling Lye
The scariest thing about making soap is dealing with lye. Lye is caustic and it burns the skin. It's a poison which can harm children and pets if they get into it. It's sodium hydroxide, and it's used to make soap and certain foods like hominy and pretzels.
I think it's wise to never underestimate the need for safety precautions when using lye. Yes, plenty of people make soap barefoot without wearing goggles or gloves, and Goddess bless them, but in my opinion they are either unusually graceful, very lucky, or "cruisin for a bruisin."
Some say you should make your caustic solution in a jar in the sink. Place the jar in the sink. Pour in your water, then stir in the lye. This way, if it spills, it just goes down the drain. I don't do that. You just never know when someone will want a drink of water, and there in the bottom of the sink is a jar of caustic solution. I really don't want to start chasing people away, wild eyed, with a wooden spoon in hand!
Instead, I purchased a 20 liter bucket with a lid. I found it at a food service wholesaler called Smart and Final Iris. It has a wide, stable bottom so it's not at risk of tipping over. With the lid on the bucket, I can walk away from my caustic solution. I have curious cats and children who know better than to throw things in the house but do it anyway. With my luck, if I leave a jar of caustic solution in the sink and go to the bathroom, upon return I will find a football in the sink, a scalded cat, and two kids wearing innocent expressions.
I line the bottom of the bucket with old newspapers. On top of the newspapers, I place an 80 oz. pickle jar. It's larger than the largest mason jar I have, and the glass is sturdy and heavy. I wanted a sturdy jar because the water gets so hot. I simply went to Wal-Mart to the bulk foods aisle, bought the biggest jar of pickles I could find, and encouraged the family to eat pickles every day until they were gone. Yes, in my house we all make sacrifices for soap.
When making cold-process soap, you need to know the temperature of your solution. For this I use a stick, similar to a yardstick. I tie a string onto the middle of the stick, and tie a glass thermometer to the string. The stick lies over the top of the bucket. The string is long enough for the thermometer to submerge in the solution without touching the bottom or sides of the jar.
Afterward, the lye stirring spoon, jar, thermometer, and stick are all stored in the bucket.
They say that you should always pour the lye into the water. If you pour water into lye, you'll get a dangerous volcanic reaction. I've never made this mistake. However, I have made another mistake - I've inhaled the vapors from the caustic solution. It's awful. I won't be doing that again. Very unpleasant. When I pour the lye into the water, I do it by the open door. It's another good reason for the bucket - I can put it on the back porch if I want to. I'm a klutz, and it's hard to pour lye without looking at the jar or inhaling, so I wear a face mask while making the lye solution. Even while wearing the face mask, I try to hold my breath while stirring and looking directly at the solution, turning away to take another breath.
The caustic solution will get very hot when the lye is first added to the water. Oven mitts are necessary while handling the jar.
The first time I made soap, I wore a face mask and goggles during the entire soap making process. The goggles fogged up and I couldn't read the scale. I missed a decimal point and had to rebatch. Now, I only wear the face mask while making the caustic solution. I do use reading glasses, which provide some eye protection.
I also wear foodhandler's gloves while making soap. I bought them at the food service supply store where I bought the bucket. They only go to the top of the hands though, so my wrists get a bit itchy as the vapors rise from the soap. A bit of vinegar takes care of it.
I save old towels and tee shirts to protect surfaces. I cover the counter tops with newspapers, and keep a large old towel nearby to mop up spills. Sometimes a batch of soap will catch me off guard and expand, spilling over the top of the pot. It just happens. Soap can be surprising. I place more towels or newspapers on the floor in front of the counter. The old towels are tossed directly in the washer after making soap.
I keep vinegar on hand to neutralize the lye. Spilled lye crystals can be hard to see, and a spray bottle of vinegar is handy way to deal with the last of the mess.
Immediately after each process, I clean all soap making utensils. For a while I thought it was cool to not wash out the soap pot after each process, thinking that the soap remnants in the pot would help the next batch. While some folks do toss a scrap of soap into the new batch to help things along, leaving caustic soap remnants on soap making tools can shorten their life. Now I neutralize the soap pot with vinegar after each use.
I save the containers that cottage cheese, yogurt etc. come in, and use them for measuring lye. (The lids make excellent disposable spoon rests.) I place a drip coffee filter in the plastic container. A one-pound cottage cheese container nicely holds a drip coffee filter. The plastic container gives the coffee filter stability. I make sure everything is very dry - lye is attracted to moisture like a magnet. The filter goes in the plastic container, which is placed on the scale. The weight is zeroed out with the tare feature before the lye is weighed.
As the lye is poured into the water, the mixture instantly heats. As the vapor rises it dampens the remaining lye in the filter. This is where the coffee filter is handy. It can be lifted it out of the container and the last of the lye crystals brushed into the water without having to scrape out the container. Afterward the filter can be thrown away and the container can be recycled. At first, I was using the coffee filter without the plastic container, but it's difficult to manage a wobbly paper filter filled with lye.
I think it's wise to never underestimate the need for safety precautions when using lye. Yes, plenty of people make soap barefoot without wearing goggles or gloves, and Goddess bless them, but in my opinion they are either unusually graceful, very lucky, or "cruisin for a bruisin."
Some say you should make your caustic solution in a jar in the sink. Place the jar in the sink. Pour in your water, then stir in the lye. This way, if it spills, it just goes down the drain. I don't do that. You just never know when someone will want a drink of water, and there in the bottom of the sink is a jar of caustic solution. I really don't want to start chasing people away, wild eyed, with a wooden spoon in hand!
Instead, I purchased a 20 liter bucket with a lid. I found it at a food service wholesaler called Smart and Final Iris. It has a wide, stable bottom so it's not at risk of tipping over. With the lid on the bucket, I can walk away from my caustic solution. I have curious cats and children who know better than to throw things in the house but do it anyway. With my luck, if I leave a jar of caustic solution in the sink and go to the bathroom, upon return I will find a football in the sink, a scalded cat, and two kids wearing innocent expressions.
I line the bottom of the bucket with old newspapers. On top of the newspapers, I place an 80 oz. pickle jar. It's larger than the largest mason jar I have, and the glass is sturdy and heavy. I wanted a sturdy jar because the water gets so hot. I simply went to Wal-Mart to the bulk foods aisle, bought the biggest jar of pickles I could find, and encouraged the family to eat pickles every day until they were gone. Yes, in my house we all make sacrifices for soap.
When making cold-process soap, you need to know the temperature of your solution. For this I use a stick, similar to a yardstick. I tie a string onto the middle of the stick, and tie a glass thermometer to the string. The stick lies over the top of the bucket. The string is long enough for the thermometer to submerge in the solution without touching the bottom or sides of the jar.
Afterward, the lye stirring spoon, jar, thermometer, and stick are all stored in the bucket.
They say that you should always pour the lye into the water. If you pour water into lye, you'll get a dangerous volcanic reaction. I've never made this mistake. However, I have made another mistake - I've inhaled the vapors from the caustic solution. It's awful. I won't be doing that again. Very unpleasant. When I pour the lye into the water, I do it by the open door. It's another good reason for the bucket - I can put it on the back porch if I want to. I'm a klutz, and it's hard to pour lye without looking at the jar or inhaling, so I wear a face mask while making the lye solution. Even while wearing the face mask, I try to hold my breath while stirring and looking directly at the solution, turning away to take another breath.
The caustic solution will get very hot when the lye is first added to the water. Oven mitts are necessary while handling the jar.
The first time I made soap, I wore a face mask and goggles during the entire soap making process. The goggles fogged up and I couldn't read the scale. I missed a decimal point and had to rebatch. Now, I only wear the face mask while making the caustic solution. I do use reading glasses, which provide some eye protection.
I also wear foodhandler's gloves while making soap. I bought them at the food service supply store where I bought the bucket. They only go to the top of the hands though, so my wrists get a bit itchy as the vapors rise from the soap. A bit of vinegar takes care of it.
I save old towels and tee shirts to protect surfaces. I cover the counter tops with newspapers, and keep a large old towel nearby to mop up spills. Sometimes a batch of soap will catch me off guard and expand, spilling over the top of the pot. It just happens. Soap can be surprising. I place more towels or newspapers on the floor in front of the counter. The old towels are tossed directly in the washer after making soap.
I keep vinegar on hand to neutralize the lye. Spilled lye crystals can be hard to see, and a spray bottle of vinegar is handy way to deal with the last of the mess.
Immediately after each process, I clean all soap making utensils. For a while I thought it was cool to not wash out the soap pot after each process, thinking that the soap remnants in the pot would help the next batch. While some folks do toss a scrap of soap into the new batch to help things along, leaving caustic soap remnants on soap making tools can shorten their life. Now I neutralize the soap pot with vinegar after each use.
I save the containers that cottage cheese, yogurt etc. come in, and use them for measuring lye. (The lids make excellent disposable spoon rests.) I place a drip coffee filter in the plastic container. A one-pound cottage cheese container nicely holds a drip coffee filter. The plastic container gives the coffee filter stability. I make sure everything is very dry - lye is attracted to moisture like a magnet. The filter goes in the plastic container, which is placed on the scale. The weight is zeroed out with the tare feature before the lye is weighed.
As the lye is poured into the water, the mixture instantly heats. As the vapor rises it dampens the remaining lye in the filter. This is where the coffee filter is handy. It can be lifted it out of the container and the last of the lye crystals brushed into the water without having to scrape out the container. Afterward the filter can be thrown away and the container can be recycled. At first, I was using the coffee filter without the plastic container, but it's difficult to manage a wobbly paper filter filled with lye.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Dread Orange Spots, or The Ugly Beauty Bar
The day before yesterday was the winter solstice, which is also our family Yule. The soap for this occasion, scented with a pine needle essential oil blended with sage, eucalyptus and rosemary, was finished a while back, and has mostly been given away.
My husband and I made a list of all the people we come into contact with on a regular basis – his coworkers, the specialists who provided services to our disabled son, teachers and staff at the schools, and of course our friends and family, and we realized that I would be distributing over 100 bars of soap. It was delivered at times with apologies – one batch had lost most of its jasmine, rose and patchouli scent, and another came out smelling slightly odd, in my opinion. Equal portions of cinnamon and pine created confusion rather than harmony. Still, I think they will be appreciated, although I’m sure that many don’t share my deep appreciation for soap in general. It’s just not something they think about much.
I’ve already started to receive some feedback. One of the occupational therapists said her husband LOVES the sandalwood soap. The Egyptian geranium turned out well and has been receiving many compliments. And of course, the anise soap made for my husband is a huge hit with the few folks we've shared it with, despite the fact that it also contains activated charcoal. It gives the soap a lovely dark licorice-like hue, but can discolor washcloths and linens.
The last batch I made was for Imbolg, also known as Candlemas, which occurs around the second day of February and is situated between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. I decided to combine the previously mentioned Imbolg soap and Valentine's Day soaps into one project. It’s a hot-process vegetarian soap made with a one percent superfat and four percent cocoa butter added toward the end. After saponification and while still hot, the soap was poured into a large mixing bowl. Milk, honey, and the lover's blend blend of essential oils was vigorously stirred in right before pressing it into the mold. It smells heavenly.
A few years ago, I made a sacred anointing oil from an EO blend, and for the lover's blend I used a few leftover oils from that project. They were in glass bottles in a dark cool place, and seemed fine. I hoped that since most of the essential oil in the lover's blend was new, and the honey might act as a preservative, it would turn out okay. Unfortunately the soap is now developing Dreaded Orange Spots. (That’s DOS in “soapers lingo”.) The spots are caused by oxidation, and it probably occurred because some of the essential oils used were old, although they smelled wonderful. It’s not so bad because the honey and milk turned the soap a dark color. There is less contrast, so the spots are not as pronounced. I realized it was risky to use old essential oil in soap, and it’s not likely I’ll make this mistake again. I make my own personal fragrance blends, and can continue to use the oils this way, as long as the fragrance is pleasing. I don’t like to waste things that are still useful. Essential oils are expensive, and it can take time to build up a good variety for making blends.
The new batch of soap is lying on a rack on the kitchen table. Each day I turn the bars. There are fifteen of them, generously sized and silky to the touch. There is also a huge ball of it, scraped from the sides of the mixing bowl with a rubber spatula and hand shaped. My soap dishes are piled with these test samples. I press my husband to try them and to comment on the fragrance and lather.
The DOS is barely noticeable now, but it will grow more pronounced, like a frightening pox. Real soapers do not sell or give away soap with DOS because it is unprofessional and bad for the reputation. It really doesn’t harm the soap, or harm the person who uses the soap. It doesn’t affect the lather or the cleaning power of the soap. It’s just ugly. Hopefully, I will find sympathetic homes for these poor spotted soaps, perhaps with understanding friends who realize that I am learning from my mistakes and that perfection isn’t always a requirement. Even now I can smell the soap, wafting in from the kitchen table.
Already, future batches are in the planning stages. My youngest son is expecting a batch of chocolate soap that actually smells like chocolate, and for the spring equinox perhaps a huge batch of lavender soap is in order. For Beltane, the soap will probably be infused with sweet woodruff and scented with ylang ylang, rose and jasmine.
My husband and I made a list of all the people we come into contact with on a regular basis – his coworkers, the specialists who provided services to our disabled son, teachers and staff at the schools, and of course our friends and family, and we realized that I would be distributing over 100 bars of soap. It was delivered at times with apologies – one batch had lost most of its jasmine, rose and patchouli scent, and another came out smelling slightly odd, in my opinion. Equal portions of cinnamon and pine created confusion rather than harmony. Still, I think they will be appreciated, although I’m sure that many don’t share my deep appreciation for soap in general. It’s just not something they think about much.
I’ve already started to receive some feedback. One of the occupational therapists said her husband LOVES the sandalwood soap. The Egyptian geranium turned out well and has been receiving many compliments. And of course, the anise soap made for my husband is a huge hit with the few folks we've shared it with, despite the fact that it also contains activated charcoal. It gives the soap a lovely dark licorice-like hue, but can discolor washcloths and linens.
The last batch I made was for Imbolg, also known as Candlemas, which occurs around the second day of February and is situated between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. I decided to combine the previously mentioned Imbolg soap and Valentine's Day soaps into one project. It’s a hot-process vegetarian soap made with a one percent superfat and four percent cocoa butter added toward the end. After saponification and while still hot, the soap was poured into a large mixing bowl. Milk, honey, and the lover's blend blend of essential oils was vigorously stirred in right before pressing it into the mold. It smells heavenly.
A few years ago, I made a sacred anointing oil from an EO blend, and for the lover's blend I used a few leftover oils from that project. They were in glass bottles in a dark cool place, and seemed fine. I hoped that since most of the essential oil in the lover's blend was new, and the honey might act as a preservative, it would turn out okay. Unfortunately the soap is now developing Dreaded Orange Spots. (That’s DOS in “soapers lingo”.) The spots are caused by oxidation, and it probably occurred because some of the essential oils used were old, although they smelled wonderful. It’s not so bad because the honey and milk turned the soap a dark color. There is less contrast, so the spots are not as pronounced. I realized it was risky to use old essential oil in soap, and it’s not likely I’ll make this mistake again. I make my own personal fragrance blends, and can continue to use the oils this way, as long as the fragrance is pleasing. I don’t like to waste things that are still useful. Essential oils are expensive, and it can take time to build up a good variety for making blends.
The new batch of soap is lying on a rack on the kitchen table. Each day I turn the bars. There are fifteen of them, generously sized and silky to the touch. There is also a huge ball of it, scraped from the sides of the mixing bowl with a rubber spatula and hand shaped. My soap dishes are piled with these test samples. I press my husband to try them and to comment on the fragrance and lather.
The DOS is barely noticeable now, but it will grow more pronounced, like a frightening pox. Real soapers do not sell or give away soap with DOS because it is unprofessional and bad for the reputation. It really doesn’t harm the soap, or harm the person who uses the soap. It doesn’t affect the lather or the cleaning power of the soap. It’s just ugly. Hopefully, I will find sympathetic homes for these poor spotted soaps, perhaps with understanding friends who realize that I am learning from my mistakes and that perfection isn’t always a requirement. Even now I can smell the soap, wafting in from the kitchen table.
Already, future batches are in the planning stages. My youngest son is expecting a batch of chocolate soap that actually smells like chocolate, and for the spring equinox perhaps a huge batch of lavender soap is in order. For Beltane, the soap will probably be infused with sweet woodruff and scented with ylang ylang, rose and jasmine.
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