Infusions

I've been infusing up a storm all summer long. Oils, that is. Rose petals, mint, comfrey, lavender, chamomile and lots and lots of calendula. In olive oil, rice bran oil and grapeseed oil. 

[The former Math teacher in me feels compelled to note that with six different herbs/flowers and three different oils, there are eighteen different combinations - just in case you were interested.]

Why, you might ask? Soap! Salve! Luscious, skin-friendly cream! Plus two delightful afternoons with the three completely charming girls (ages 8, 10 and 12) who live next door: one spent picking leaves and petals and cramming them into a jar to infuse with oil, and a second spent turning the oil into this salve.

The jars have looked so beautiful on the verandah in the sunlight it's almost a shame to use them.

Soap box

Don't worry - I'm not about to start proclaiming or declaiming or exclaiming. I just want to tell you about the soap mold Kim made for me.

After a post-Christmas hiatus on soap-making, I geared up production again last week and tried making milk soap with goat's milk. My first batch (made with a recipe from here) wasn't so hot - it took forever to harden (after two days I sliced it anyway, but it was still too soft), it's greasy to the touch, and each slice has a dark centre, all of which sent me back to the Internet on a quest to figure out what happened. And here's what I learned.

The Gel Phase: this is something you either want to happen or you don't want to happen. It all depends on preference. More specifically, many people who make milk soaps don't want it to happen because they believe it makes the end product darker, and apparently light-coloured milk soap is something to be desired. Other people believe the quality of the end product is better if the soap does go through the gel phase. Which leaves beginners like me scratching our heads.

But here's what I figured out. If you want the gel phase to happen, you insulate the soap really well during the first 24 hours, to keep in the heat. That means wrapping it in blankets or towels and not peeking. If you don't want the gel phase you do the opposite: as soon as the soap is poured into your mold it goes into the fridge, if not the freezer. Those were the instructions I blindly followed with my first batch of milk soap, but apparently it was not enough, because that dark circle in the middle of each slice is a sign of a partial gel. And if there's something gel-lers and non-gel-lers agree on, it's that you don't want a partial gel.

So in my second batch I went for the gel phase and got a much better product. Yes, it's a touch darker in colour, but still a lovely creamy tan.

Super-Fatting: even though this makes me think of my arthritis-is-flaring-and-I'm-too-sore-to-exercise physique, what I'm really referring to is a component of the calculations that go into a soap recipe. Most beginner soap makers follow someone else's recipe, but at some point you may want to experiment with a different combination of oils, or be forced to experiment because you run out of one oil or another. That's when a soap calculator comes in: you enter the amounts of each of the oils you are using and the calculator tells you how much lye and how much water you'll need. (You can find a reliable soap calculator here.)

But there's another input to the calculation, and it has to do with how much oil you want left in the soap not taken up by the lye in the saponification process. If you are making a nourishing facial soap you will want a higher superfat number (more oil left) than if you are making a laundry soap. When I got an unpleasantly greasy first batch of milk soap I wondered if the superfat percentage was off in the recipe because of the fat in the milk. It turns out that a standard superfat percentage for soap is 5%, but for milk soap it should be 3%. Sure enough, when I ran the recipe I had used through the calculator with a superfat of 3%, the calculator called for a greater amount of lye than I had used in the first batch. I adjusted it for the second batch and got a much better product.



But wait...wasn't this post supposed to be about a soap box?

Until last week I had been using assorted found objects as molds - milk cartons, plastic trays, silicon muffin cups - because I found the commercial molds available all over the Internet way, way too expensive. Many of them are fairly simple boxes made of wood. And who do I know who likes making things with wood? Kim, of course.



Here is my lovely soap box. It's made from scraps of cedar, with a top that helps insulate the soap as it hardens, but which lifts off easily.



With a lining of parchment paper...

...and a removable front, it's a breeze to slide out the hardened block of soap for cutting.

Kim constructed the box to my specifications, but I think I got the proportions a little wrong - the bars of soap are a bit too wide to fit comfortably in the hand. Luckily for me Kim's game to make me another one!

Soap

I have been waiting to write this post since August, when the whole project got started. The problem was, these were Christmas presents I was making, and my family and friends read this blog. So I had to wait, and now, finally, all the Christmas presents have been delivered and received - all except the package for my friends Jean and Jim, who are just going to have to act surprised when I finally see them on Saturday.

Soap, I'm talking soap! Yes, I now can grow vegetables, bake a loaf of bread and make soap.

I knew I wanted to make all-vegetable soap - there's something not so appealing to me about washing my body with animal fat. So I started with instructions from the Down to Earth blog and made my first batch with olive oil, organic coconut oil, rice bran oil and lye - simple, basic soap. And it was easy! So easy and so satisfying that more batches followed quickly, one with just olive and coconut oils, and then one where I started experimenting with adding essential oils. Soon the dining room table was covered with curing bars of soap and my sweetheart was starting to politely wonder about a possible new addiction.

She may have had a point, because even after all the Christmas presents were distributed, we're still left with what is probably a lifetime supply. But I'm not complaining. And I'm already itching for an excuse to start up all over again.

The basic procedure for cold processed soap is to mix lye and water, which then becomes very hot and gives off fumes. While you're waiting for it to cool down you gently heat the oils you want to use on the stove. When the cooling lye reaches the temperature of the heating oils (about 100 degrees) they are combined, then mixed until they reach "trace", which means it's about the consistency of pudding. Then any botanical ingredients or essential oils are added, the soap is poured into a mold, swaddled in towels and left to cool for 24 hours. Then it's removed from the mold, cut into bars and left to cure on a rack for about 6 weeks.

I think I made about ten batches in all, which hardly makes me an expert. But here are a few tips for you, in case you'd like to give it a try yourself.

Tip #1: Don't fool yourself that you're only going to make one batch. Take the time to source out bulk supplies, otherwise you'll end up spending more money than you need to.

Tip #2: Be sensible but don't be afraid. Some soap-making instructions I read would have had me dress up in hazmat gear because the lye is so caustic. I took reasonable precautions, like mixing the water and lye outside because of the fumes, covering countertops with old towels and making sure the animals were not underfoot, and I had no problems.

Tip #3: You don't need separate equipment for soap-making. Again, some instructions I read directed me to have pots, bowls, spoons and mixers devoted solely to soap making. I don't think this is necessary, provided you wash everything thoroughly when you're done. My only exception was the candy thermometer I used, which was constructed in such a way that I couldn't clean out the nicks and crannies as well as I would have liked. So it won't get used for regular cooking anymore.

Tip #4: Invest in a hand blender. It can take a lot of painful mixing to reach trace, if you're doing it by hand. With a hand blender the whole process is not only easier, it's much quicker. I used an old plastic hand blender that had been deformed by being immersed in hot soups. Otherwise, I would have looked for a used one at a thrift store or garage sale.

Tip #5: Don't spend money on molds unless you're thinking of going into commercial production. I spent some time on soap making supply websites, and it would have been really easy to rack up a big bill buying molds. But things you have around the house will work just as well. I used empty milk cartons for a few batches, silicon muffin tins for another, and then I picked up some 2-inch high drawer organizer trays at the dollar store that I used for the rest. Whatever you use has to be stiff enough to keep its shape when you pour in the soap, leak proof, and able to withstand fairly high temperatures.

Tip #6: Whatever you use for a mold, grease it well! Enough said.

Tip #7: If you start looking on the internet for recipes using essential oils to add a scent to your soap, you won't believe how much you're supposed to use, but it's true. I think it must be because the high heat that is generated by the saponification process breaks down the essential oil so it becomes far less potent.

Tip #8: Cover the exposed surface of freshly made soap with plastic. I learned this when my first batch developed a thin layer of white powder on the exposed surface. It's called "ash" and it doesn't affect the performance of the soap, just the look. You can shave it off with a vegetable peeler, or try to prevent it by using plastic.

Tip #9: Get started early. Soap needs at least 6 weeks of curing time, during which the saponification process continues and the soap hardens. If you try to use your soap too early it will not only not last as long, it could still be caustic.

Tip #10: Save the scrap ends and bits and pieces. I have a baggie full, and plan to use the grated soap in this hand scrub, to keep me looking presentable through the gardening season.

I'm trying really hard not to get too carried away, but now I'm really curious about making my own lye from wood ash, instead of buying it in pellets at the hardware store. After all, that's what Laura would do...