In years gone by people made their own . . . pretty much everything, including soap. My great-grandfather used to make it out of his old bacon (or any other fat) drippings. It was not the most beautifully fragrant soap, but it did the job.
A favorite quote of many family members on my father's side is, "Waste not, want not . . . good to the last drop." This originated with my aunt, I believe. She also makes soap, but hers is as deliciously aromatic and "gourmet" as it comes, with blends named "Lemon Chiffon, Bees Knees, Fruity Rumba or Palm Panache," to name just a few. Ingredients really do make all the difference. Aunt Dee Ann taught me how important they are as she taught me how to make soap, step by careful step. She explained what happened at each step, and at what point things added would be left on the skin, thereby either moisturizing, irritating, or scenting the skin.
Years later, I wanted to make some soap for my own family, but had forgotten many of the steps. So I gave Grandpa a call and asked if he would guide me in the process. Thankfully, he was willing to be my Soapbi-Wan Kenobi.
Before beginning the soap making process I had to render, or purify, some tallow. To do this, I bought some raw tallow from a butcher, melted it down in my crockpot (in the garage because it smells repulsive), and strained out any particles of meat, bone, skin, or anything not tallow. This left me with a clear, odorless fat base for my soap. I froze mine until I was ready to make the soap. When ready to begin saponification (that is fancy for making soap for all Fancy Nancy fans) I had to remelt the tallow and melt down some coconut oil as well.
Because I used lye in the kitchen area, and it is extremely basic or alkaline, I thoroughly wiped down the entire kitchen with white vinegar (which is acidic) to neutralize any areas that my have been exposed to the lye. I had splashed a little drop of lye on my lip when mixing it with the fats and it burned like ever until I dabbed some vinegar on it. This served a very effective reminder to neutralize anything possibly exposed to the lye.
When the soap had properly set, I removed it from the molds and sliced it into "normal" bar sizes. I even made one soap on a rope by having Nate drill a hole into the center of one of the larger bars and then threading a nylon cord (or "rope") through the hole. I set the bars in a dry, well ventilated area to cure for a couple of weeks. When fully cured, I shaved the corners and edges with a vegetable peeler, put a pair of socks on my hands, soaked the socks with rubbing alcohol, and rubbed the surface of the bars to smooth them and remove any lye residue. The first time I used the soap, I was nervous that it might not lather properly, or leave my skin dry or "off" smelling. I was relieved when it lathered well, and left my skin moisturized with a hint of vanilla and mint. Sweet Success!!


2 comments:
Your soaps look lovely!
Thanks! I can't wait to do it again.
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