"It is said that Roman women 'discovered' soap some 3000 years ago by accident when they were washing sacred stones after an animal sacrifice. The combination of fat, water, and ashes from the sacrificial fire created a crude soapy substance."
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Folk Wisdom for a Natural Home, Beverly Pagram, 1997, Trafalgar Square Publishing, North Pomfret, VT.
The first time I read the above passage, it didn't seem terribly illuminating...or even rather likely. As if such a precise chemical process as saponification could happen--ooops, how handy!--while scrubbing off some dirty stones. Those of you who have never been mildly obsessed with the idea of making soap may not know the term
saponification, and I didn't either until recently. I knew that soap-making entailed the use of lye, that lye was a nasty, dangerous substance, and that there was heat involved. In short, I had this vision of me cackling over a cauldron of poisonous fumes shortly before I burned the crap out of myself.
Back over here in reality, saponification is as follows: it is a chemical reaction that occurs when fat (which is acidic) reacts with a strong alkali--in particular, sodium hydroxide which, when mixed with water, is called lye. The reaction is a chemical transformation; you are left with neither lye nor fat nor any of their characteristics, but instead an entirely new product called soap. The tricky part is that the whole shebang is caustic as hell--
and requires proper levels of heat for each ingredient while mixing, not to mention the fact that sodium hydroxide, upon mixing with water, gets very hot and can make like a volcano all over the place--a lot of possible operator error for a newbie.
My opening quote continues: "Traditional soap-making, utilizing as it does spluttering fat (many folk recipes from Europe, America, and Australia incorporate tallow, suet, and 'breakfast grease') plus caustic lye--an alkaline solution made by water dripping through wood ash, is a dangerous operation."
If I didn't want to make soap so badly, I'd want nothing to do with it.
However, the more I read about soap making--and in particular, the more I review the chapter on making a batch of blender soap (!) in my new favorite DIY book
Making It: Radical Home Ec for a Post-Consumer World--the more I am convinced that the Roman tale is probably correct. Just the right combination, in fact, of heat, fat, lye, water, and agitation. Fortunately, in
Making It, I have a more detailed recipe, one that doesn't involve "spluttering fat" glopping all over.
Not much you can do about the lye, though.
SO! Ready for soap-making 101? I am!
OK. First: we are not going to be using animal fat this time around (
but I do not deny that I have several cans of old bacon grease tucked away for a rainy day. I know, ew, right?) Instead, we are making bars of castile soap, which has come to mean any soap made with vegetable oils. In this case, we are making the original, Spanish version of castile soap, using only olive oil. But leave your extra virgin stuff for eating, and use just regular ol' olive oil which will work better in soap-making.
If you want to have fragrance to your soaps, use essential oils. They are expensive, and you may decide that unscented soap is just fine, since this recipe takes an entire teaspoon if you want to have a discernible fragrance in the finished product. This first time, I am going to try adding scent to see how long it lasts and decide whether I think it is worth it for future batches. I am using about 1/2 tsp of lavender, and then the remaining 1/2 tsp a mixture of sweet orange and a few drops of cedarwood. Yum.
Finally, lye. You can find it at a hardware store under chemical drain cleaners. The only ingredient should be sodium hydroxide--if the ingredients aren't listed, beware. You do
not want to grab a can of Mr Plumber and start a science experiment. The one I found said "100% lye" on it, which simplified matters--look for that, or "100% sodium hydroxide." If you cannot find any locally, there are soap-making sites online where you can purchase it.
Now, hear ye for the disclaimer real quick like: I don't think you would really want to just jump full-length into soap-making immediately after reading this post--I'm entirely new to the process myself and learning as I go. I recommend getting a good handbook on soap-making from the library (or getting
Making It) and using far more experienced folks as your guides. However, this is how it worked for me....
Equipment & general prep
First, make sure you have a good kitchen scale (one that has the "tare" function where you can zero-out the weight of a container.) You will want to measure the ingredients by weight, not volume, for better precision. Second, you need a heat-proof container in which to mix the lye crystals and water; I used a mason canning jar. You will need gloves and protective goggles with an elastic strap (think high school chemistry class). Wrap-around glasses are not enough--they need to be splash-proof, and held tightly against your face like a snorkeling mask. Wear old clothes with long sleeves and pants, closed-toe shoes...better safe than sorry. Tie your hair back. Sequester children and pets in another location. Have access to great ventilation for the lye-mixing part--or better yet, do that outside.
And, of course you need a blender, which can be your regular kitchen blender (everything cleans up nicely) or one dedicated to soap-making. A long-handled spoon--not aluminum. Finally, you need a mold for your soap. While there are all sorts of fancy ones to buy, the easiest & cheapest is to save a paper milk carton--either half-gallon size or quart size. Open the top of the carton fully, wash thoroughly, and let dry.
Ingredients
2 oz. lye
6 oz. filtered water
16 oz. olive oil
1 tsp. essential oil (optional)
Method
Put on gloves and goggles. Put a small bowl on the scale, press the tare button and wait for the scale to read "zero." Slowly and carefully measure 2 oz of the sodium hydroxide (lye) into the bowl. Set aside. Put the empty mason jar (or other heat-proof container) on the scale and zero out the weight. Pour in 6 oz of filtered water. Take the water, bowl of lye crystals, and the long handled spoon outside or to an area with an exhaust fan/open window. Very carefully, pour the lye into the water and stir to dissolve the crystals--DO NOT pour the water onto the lye, which can cause a volcano of burning, caustic lye all over the place. The mixture will look cloudy and immediately heat up to 180 degrees, so use extreme caution. Once the crystals are dissolved, let the lye cool and settle for 5-10 minutes (making sure curious pets and children can't access it).
In the meantime, place a larger container on the scale, zero the weight, and measure 16 oz of olive oil (not extra virgin). If you are using essential oils, measure out the teaspoon of oil into a small container. Check to make sure that your blender is put together correctly--rubber gasket in place, everything screwed together firmly. Pour the olive oil into the blender & plug it in. Have the essential oil next to the blender, ready, along with the long handled spoon, something to rest the spoon on in between uses, and an old kitchen towel.
Once the lye has started to cool and look less cloudy, make sure you are wearing your gloves and goggles. Do the next fews steps in calm, smooth succession: first, slowly and carefully pour the lye mixture into the blender. Put on the blender lid, then put the kitchen towel on top of the lid for good measure. Hold down the towel/lid with one hand. With the other, turn the blender on to its lowest speed for ten seconds, then stop the blender. Wait for the contents to settle, then remove the towel & lid and dip in the spoon. The mixture should be very liquid and runny. Replace the lid & towel and continue to process at the lowest speed for 30 seconds at a time, checking the consistency of the mixture in between.
You are looking for a consistency called "trace"--which means that when you dip in the spoon and dribble some back on the surface, it doesn't immediately disappear back into the mixture, but starts to leave a "trace" behind on the surface. In other words, you find the mixture starting to change from very liquid toward a more pudding-like consistency. When this change starts to happen, you have very little time before the mixture will become too thick to pour, so as soon as you notice a thickening, pour in your essential oil (if using) and pulse a few more times to mix--then immediately remove the blender carafe from the base and pour the mixture into your mold. If it is already too thick to pour, scoop it out of the blender with a spatula and smooth it into the mold as best you can. This mixture will still be caustic--use care. The entire blending process will be done within a five-minute time period.
Fold up the top flaps of the milk carton and clip or tape it shut. The mixture will still be hot, so carefully put the mold somewhere that it can rest for a day or so without being bothered.
To clean up your blender and other equipment, run a sink of hot, soapy water. Keep your gloves and goggles on, and use the spoon or a spatula to remove and throw away as much of the mixture from the items to be washed as you can. Wash everything in the soapy water and rinse thoroughly. If you will be using these items for regular cooking, it might be smart to wash them a second time. Let dry.
Check your soap after 24 hours to see if it has become solid. Open the lid and reach in with a finger to see if the surface is still sticky--if it is, let the soap cool and solidify for another day and recheck. Soaps made of different types of fats and oils will harden with greater or lesser speed, and castile soap can take several days. Once it is as solid as chilled butter, peel away the carton carefully. Slice your soap with a sharp knife into the size bars you prefer.
You can use a vegetable peeler to bevel the edges if you like. The soap will have a consistency similar to American cheese at this point. Let the soap continue to dry and harden for four weeks--resting somewhere out of the way with plenty of air flow, and covered lightly with a cloth. The longer you let the soap cure, the harder it will become and the longer the bar will last once you begin to use it.
TA DA! I just made soap! How fun is this? While I can see that there are many opportunities for spills and burns, I think that as long as you do not rush and pay very close attention to what you are doing, there is no reason for a catastrophe to happen. Reading through the instructions in whatever guide you choose is also important--in fact, I would read them through from start to finish multiple times so that you are very familiar with how the process moves from one step to the next. Do not underestimate the heat and nasty fumes of the lye--I would really try to mix the lye outside if possible and make sure to stand up-wind of the container while you are mixing it.
Other than that, the biggest challenge is now waiting a month to use this gorgeous, creamy looking soap! If I like this as well as I think that I will, I know what I'm doing for Christmas presents this year....
One last tidbit: while perusing soap-making manuals after finishing this blender batch, I keep reading passages that refer to genuine castile soap (100% olive oil soap, which is what this recipe creates) as very tricky to make. Well, la dee dah! Apparently the blender method takes a difficult but desirable soap and renders it simple. How cool is that? Pure olive oil soap is extremely mild and rich, with less lather than modern commercial soap, but suitable for body and hair and anyone with sensitive skin.
Ultimately, the colors and scents and gathering out in the fresh air and sunshine are a blissful way to spend your day. I have the most wonderful mason jar full of sun-dried calendula flowers that represents hours of picking, preparing, and drying beautiful flower-heads on sunny days throughout the summer. How can they be anything but a force for health and happiness?
