The love of the craft

As a result of my international shipping scam blog posts, I made the wonderful long-distance acquaintance of Rosa Ziv from Carmel Gifts in Israel, who offered me the incredible sequence of contacts she'd had with a shipping scammer for publication in my blog post International Shipping Scams: Part 3.  Thanks to Rosa's help, thousands of people have read about exactly how these scams work, and many have been saved substantial time, trouble, and money in the process. 

The spike in the number of visits to my blog immediately after
publishing the post on which Rosa and I collaborated.

And, as a result of our having collaborated on the shipping scams post, Rosa invited me to write a guest post for her store blog!  I was delighted to be asked, and greatly enjoyed doing it.  (Amazing how the Internet can build relationships between people who would never meet or cross paths in any other way!)

As I considered various ideas about what to write, I finally settled on talking about – and correcting – a few of the common misconceptions people have about handcrafted soap.  I focused, for example, on the issue of soaps vs. synthetic detergents because in my experience, many people don't fully understand that there is a difference, or what that difference is. 

I talked about the environmental and skin care ramifications of using cleaning products that are manufactured with chemical vs. natural ingredients.

I also addressed the issue of whether handmade soap made "has lye in it," which is another area of misunderstanding for people who are unfamiliar with the basic chemisty that converts oils and fats into soap.

Given this, you might wonder why Rosa chose to title it Handmade Soap Contains Love. 

One simple reason.  As a crafter myself, as one who has always delighted in the uniqueness of anything that's handcrafted, and as one who's had the privilege of meeting, getting to know, and working with crafters in many different media, I know that what draws and binds us to each other is our love of what we do. 

As I put it in the post for Rosa's blog, "whenever you buy anything that’s handcrafted, you’re also getting – at absolutely no extra charge – all the love and care that went into making it.  You can’t put a price tag on that."

Scientific soap making part III: essential oils vs.fragrance oils

As I prepare to teach a couple of soap making classes in the coming weeks, one of the topics I'll be covering is essential oils vs. fragrance oils and the pros and cons of each in cold process soap making.  My clear preference is essential oils because they're natural and have beneficial properties that fragrance oils don't have.  But first, let's clarify what the difference is between the two.

Essential oils are natural scents extracted from the leaves, bark, roots, flowers, and fruits of plants.  Fragrance oils are synthetic blends of the aromatic compounds found in essential oils and elsewhere. 

Is one preferable to the other?  Strictly in terms of cold process soap making, it's a toss-up.

Essential oils have an edge in that they have benefits beyond just scent.  Tea tree is a great example because its natural antiseptic, antibacterial, antifungal, and antiviral properties are well researched and documented.  Eucalyptus essential oil's value in relieving symptoms of respiratory infections can make it a beneficial additive in skin and bath products.  Many beneficial claims are made for other essential oils, although most are poorly researched and largely unproven.  Fragrance oils, however, have no such additional benefits. 

A field of Bulgarian lavender, considered by many to yield the highest quality lavender essential oil.

It's a toss-up between essential and fragrance oils in that both can be problematic to use in soap making. 

A problem with some essential oils is that the temperature at which their scent vaporizes (i.e., the flash point) is so low it won't survive ordinary cold process methods.  Eucalyptus, unfortunately, is a prime example.  With a flash point of around 110 degrees F, it can only be used in a soap that is prevented from heating up and going through gel phase, and preventing gel results in inferior soap texture and appearance.  The Lavender Oatmilk bars pictured below are a perfect example of a soap that did not go through a proper gel.

See the rind-like appearance of the outer edge?  It's noticeably lighter than the center of the bars, and it has a somewhat chalk-like texture.  Bars like these I either use myself or give away. 

Fragrance oils, on the other hand, have high flash points so that's not an issue.  The problem with fragrance oils is that some accelerate the saponification process and cause the soap batter to become so thick so quickly that it becomes difficult or impossible to pour.  With some I've used, the window of time between when the fragrance is added and when the soap becomes so thick it glops out of the pot rather than pours is less than 60 seconds.  You gotta be ready to move fast! 

Fragrance oils have an edge in cost and lifespan.  With just a few exceptions, fragrance oils are less expensive than essential oils.  Those with which I've been happiest cost around $1.50 per ounce, and their scents hold up for years, both in the bottle and in the soap.  Many of the more popular essential oils, on the other hand, average around $3.00 per ounce, and some (jasmine or sandalwood, for example) cost hundreds and even thousands of dollars per ounce.  Essential oil scents also tend to fade faster.  Citrus oils can be especially short-lived in soap, with noticeable scent degradation in as little as six months.

One thing I personally like about fragrance oils is that I can use or experiment with scents that are either too costly to buy as essential oils -- like jasmine and sandalwood -- or that aren't available as essential oils.  I do love the fresh, crisp, clean and slightly astringent scent of cucumbers, for example, but there's no such thing as cucumber essential oil.  You can also get fragrance oils that are imitations of popular designer perfume and cologne scents, which some folks really love.

An open question is whether one is safer for skin contact than the other.  Essential oils are derived from natural sources, but some are known to trigger adverse skin reactions.  Lemon essential oil, for example, is known to be irritating or sensitizing to some people's skin, as are spice essentials oils such as cinnamon and clove.  Synthetic fragrance oils . . . well we usually don't know how safe they are because the compounds used to make them do not have to be itemized on product labels.  We do know that phthalates used in fragrance oils and many plastic products have been linked to a number of health risks, but most fragrance oil manufacturers that used them have reformulated their products to be phthalate-free.

But whether scents are natural or synthetic, their effect and power is something I find endlessly fascinating.

I recently invited a friend to smell the scent blend I used in a new soap I formulated. She sniffed and appeared to have no reaction at all, just a funny kind of blank look on her face. 

 

"It reminds me of playing with Barbies," she finally said, completely unable to say why, or even whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.  The most she could add was that she didn't mean the soap smelled like a Barbie doll, just that it reminded her of playing with Barbies. 

Science can help to explain how we perceive and process scents, but it can't account for the uniquely personal associations we make with them or the emotions they trigger.  That is beyond both the art and the science of scent development.  And that is the reason I so enjoy experimenting with new scents and scent blends, using both natural and synthetic fragrances. 

One customer told me she absolutely loved a soap she bought that smelled like leaves burning in the fall.  I personally can't imagine wanting to use a soap that smells like anything that's burning, but I totally understand that she has her own special connection to that scent, and that's all that matters. 

Living Green with ABC 7

"Hello, this is Sylvia Jones from ABC Channel 7, and we're interested in filiming you making soap for ______ . . . " 

Wow!  How cool!  And completely out of the blue.  The top-rated TV station in Chicago wants to feature me on something!  I didn't hear a thing she said from that point on, except that she wanted to schedule it in two days' time and I knew that wasn't going to happen.  Fortunately she was willing to schedule it a couple weeks later.

And when I say fortunately, I mean it!  TV cameras in my house?  Bright hot lights exposing every bit of dust, random scrap of paper, and smudged fingerprint?  Let's just say major housekeeping ensued.  Including washing windows and walls, and repainting woodwork. 

When the big day came, however, I was ready.  And everything went smoothly. 

We started with the interview, and then the cameraman filmed me making soap.  The producer had been very specific about wanting to film the entire process,from start to finish, and that's exactly what happened.  The cameraman frequently asked me to stop what I was doing for a moment -- measuring oils into the pot, for example -- so he could change positions and film it from a different angle.  Sometimes three or four different angles.  Fascinating. 

The result is pretty impressive, I think.  You can see it here: "Edgewater Soaps uses natural ingredients" on Living Green With ABC 7.  Enjoy!

Scientific soap making part II: curing soap and water discounting

First, let's be clear that we're not talking about "curing" in the sense of helping to get over an illness or disease.  We're talking about curing in the sense of aging and mellowing: storing or keeping something under controlled conditions for a period of time long enough for it to develop certain desirable or unique qualities -- like complexity of flavor in an aged cheese or fine scotch.

With cold process soap making, the time spent actually making the soap is minimal.  What takes time is curing the soap once it's made, and that's four to six weeks depending on the soap.  Or is it?

Curing soap does two things.  It ensures that the soap is fully saponified, and it allows moisture to evaporate so the bars become firmer.  If the soap goes through a full gel stage, saponification will be nearly complete within 48 hours.  If it doesn't, it may take longer.  But in no case should full saponification take longer than two weeks, so after that it's just about letting it dry out and become nice and firm. 

With that in mind, it stands to reason that if you use less water to make it, there's less moisture to evaporate.  And that should shorten the drying time, right?

To test this, I tracked the weight loss of three different soaps over a six-week period, and found that the soaps made with a lower percentage of water (a solution of about 60 percent water, 40 percent lye) reached a stable weight in about 3 weeks.  Those made with a higher percentage of water (about 66 percent water, 33 percent lye) took about 4 weeks to reach a stable weight.  Clearly, using less water shortens the drying time.

Some soapmakers maintain that drying time is bascially immaterial, and that curing soap for six weeks or longer somehow makes it even milder and better.  One even suggested that a soap that has cured for a year is about as close to the ultimate as you can get. 

But what happens to soap in a year that doesn't happen within 3-4 weeks of having made it?  Soap isn't cheese, and the chemcial and biological processes that are key in aging cheese or wine are irrelevant when it comes to soap.  The only thing that really happens over an extended period of time is that the soap's scent tends to fade, and the bars themselves become extra hard.  That's about it.

My conclusion is that reducing the amount of water in the recipe shortens curing time and results in soap that is ready to use sooner rather than later.  To learn more about water discounting here's a link to a detailed description of the process.

Blame it on the soap fairies

A customer who's interested in learning how to make soap recently asked how I dealt with the frustration of soap batches that didn't turn out right. 

That’s a great question because I’ve never been able to overcome the disappointment of having wasted valuable ingredients. Soaps that failed frustrate and disappoint me just as much today as when I actually made them, no matter how long ago that was. But that’s just how it goes. Some experiments work, others don’t. Usually when a soap fails it’s due to an error in the formulation. Something was left out, something was mismeasured, or something was calculated incorrectly.

I rarely have failures now, I'm happy to say. But I do have experiments that don't come out as well as I had hoped.  A new fragrance blend doesn't smell quite the way I wanted it to, for example.  Or something I tried to enhance the appearance of the finished soap didn't quite result in the look I had in mind.  Or one of the fussier soaps I make decides to be extra fussy and not gel properly, resulting in a soap that's just not up to par in terms of appearance or texture.  Most of these soaps I either use myself, sell at a discount, or give away.  

But I'm convinced that sometimes the real explanation is that it’s the work of the soap fairies.  They’re quiet and benign most of the time, lurking in the background, watching but not interfering.  When they decide to act up, however, there's no telling what will happen.  The result can be an unaccountable failure or a magnificent success. Both have happened to me. All I can do is scratch my head and wonder.

Scientific soapmaking: sulfated castor oil

On a liquid soapmaking group list I subscribe to, someone recently asked whether other soapmakers consider sulfated castor oil a "must have" ingredient for liquid soap. 

Is it a "must have?"  No.  Is it an ingredient worth adding?  Yes.  Sulfated castor oil (also known as sulfonated castor oil or Turkey Red oil) is a water soluble form of castor oil that soapmakers often add to make liquid soaps especially mild and gentle to the skin.

The soap I make that uses sulfated castor to greatest effect is my liquid dog shampoo.  Dogs, much more than people, need oil for their skin and coat to be healthy, and the sulfated castor seems to be especially helpful in preserving the right balance.  The customer feedback has been 100 percent positive.  Glowing even! 

Castor bean seeds



When I decided to develop a bar version of the dog shampoo, however, I ran into a roadblock.  Sulfated castor can be added to liquid soaps without being figured into the lye calculation because it's water soluble.  Its saponification (SAP) value -- or the question of whether it has one -- doesn't seem to matter.  But it does matter with a bar soap because it will potentially ruin the batch if it's not included in the lye calculation. 

The simple question Does sulfated castor oil have a SAP value? was difficult to answer.  I searched for the information every way I could think of.  I checked a number of very reputable websites.  Some assigned it the same SAP value as regular castor oil.  Others gave it a SAP value of 0.  But I couldn't find a third party source to susbstantiate either one.  I left it out of the recipe.

Several weeks ago, I remade the dog shampoo bars, and before I did I searched once again and came up empty-handed once again.  So I took a chance and added it to the recipe without figuring it into the lye calculation.  I used a slightly lower lye discount just to be safe.  The soap came to trace nicely, went into a good gel, and the next morning I had what appeared to be perfectly good -- albeit a little soft -- dog shampoo bars.  (They are hardening nicely as they cure, I'm pleased to add.)

But I still didn't have an answer to my question and it was bugging the heck out of me.  Then it hit me.  There's one person I know who might actually have the answer. 

I know someone who's writing the most in-depth book on the science of soapmaking that's ever been attempted.  I'm on the list of soapmakers and others who've had the oppportunity to review drafts of the book, offer comments, look for typos, and generally be amazed (and, in my case, intimidated!) by the level of scientific scrutiny he brings to the process of soapmaking.  When it's published, I guarantee that no serious soapmaker will be without it.  An invaluable resource.

I met and talked to the author very briefly at a soapmakers convention a couple years ago, and on the basis of that very tenuous connection I e-mailed him my question.  I hoped it was something he knew off the top of his head and that it would only take 5 seconds of his time to reply.  What I received was considerably more detailed.

It turns out that he didn't have a definitive answer because he had hadn't yet had the opportunity to actually measure the SAP value of sulfated castor oil himself.  And he also hadn't come across anything in his reading or studies that substantiated it one way or the other.  But he had done a quick experiment, he said, that "led me to believe that sulfated castor oil is already saponified and therefore has a SAP close to 0."  In the following paragraphs he lead me through the entire process, starting with the premise for the experiment, the proven facts that formed the basis for it, the hypothesis he was working with, and the experiement itself.

Long story short, he found that the sulfated castor reacted the way saponfied oil would react in the test he performed, not the way unsaponified oil would react.  As he said, this is not a definitive answer, but it does suggest one. 

Shortly after that I found some tantalizing information to support his idea.  I came across several websites stating that once castor oil is treated with sulfuric acid, sodium hydroxide is used to neutralize the acid.  This quote, for example, is lifted from an online patent application: 

Turkey Red Oil is prepared by adding concentrated sulfuric acid (93%) to castor oil at 25°-30°C.  From about 15 to 30% sulfuric acid is added to the castor oil.  After all of the acid has been added and reaction is complete, the reaction product is washed with water and then neutralized with sodium hydroxide solution.

Isn't that interesting!  My author acquaintance may be right on the money.  Note that he said "a SAP value close to 0," not a SAP value of 0.  For my purposes, though, close to 0 is close enough.

Milling soap part II

A couple months ago, I wrote a blog entry about milling soap and what that means for a handcrafted soapmaker vs. a commercial soap manufacturer. 

Huge difference.  Commercial soap milling is a manufacturing process that involves removing the skin-softening, moisturizing glycerin that's a natural by-product of soapmaking so it can be used more profitably in lotions, creams, and other cosmetic and skin care products.  That's why so many commercially-made soaps are harsh, drying, and even irritating to the skin. 

With this in mind, it was especially interesting to stumble across this little press release from a company in Dubai that does exactly that -- removes the glycerin from soap and sells it for substantially greater profit to cosmetics manufacturers. 

Makes me wonder who buys what's left over.  Proctor & Gamble?  Unliver?  Henkel International?

Edgewater Soaps in feature interview on Sprout Chicago blog!

Many thanks to fellow Edgewater resident and craftperson Lydia Krupinski of Pierogi Picnic for featuring Edgewater Soaps in an interview for the Sprout Chicago blog!  Described as An Urban Guide to the Green Life, Sprout Chicago " . . . takes you into the heart of good and green life in Chicago.  From local news and restaurant reviews, to interviews with green go-getters and profiles of eco-events, Sprout Chicago is your source for sustainability in the city." 

The interview is great and the photos -- which Lydia took -- are stunning.  Got me thinking I should retake all the pics on my website . . . !  (Or hire her to do it, maybe?  What do you think?)

Soap addiction

It's true that some people are addicted to soap.  They LOVE soap, and when they pass by my table they always stop and they always buy something.  Or several somethings.

"Addicted" is their word, not mine.  Just last week a customer asked how she could get my soaps once the farmers markets were over.  I told her she could get them online through my website, and also mentioned the stores that carry them.  "Good," she said.  "I just want to make sure I can still get it, now that you've got me hooked on your CRACK soap!"

Crack soap!  I laughed about that one all day long.  I'm cracking up all over again even as I write this.  I love that she's a true fan, though the comparison to crack cocaine isn't exactly flattering . . . ! 

Well here's a new twist on addictive soap.  From the Northwest Florida Daily News online police blotter:

14-year-old sells cocaine, actually soap
October 2, 2009 2:30 p.m.
Angel McCurdy
FORT WALTON BEACH — A 14-year-old boy was arrested for felony charges of selling counterfeit controlled substances.
According to a Fort Walton Beach Police report, the juvenile sold a quantity of suspected crack cocaine to an undercover police agent.
The boy sold the supposed cocaine for $145 and then fled the area.
He was arrested at his home on Wright Parkway on Sept. 11.
Officers found that the sold drugs were not cocaine, but that it was pieces of soap.
The boy admitted to officers that he cut up a bar of soap at his house and then sold it as crack cocaine.

Now why didn't I think of that.  $145 dollars for a truly addictive bar of soap!  I've gotta raise my prices.

DIY soap making

When I first started making soap seven (eight?) years ago, my soap mold was a shoe box.  I'd line it with plastic grocery store bags that I'd cut down both sides and try to make fit into the box so the loaf of soap would have nice edges and corners.  It never really worked.  The bottom edges were always rounded and the corners were even more so.  And the bottom of the soap loaf was always wrinkled and crinkly.

In time I got more particular about it and made a form out of styrofoam planks that I cut to fit snugly inside the shoe box.  I wrapped the form with duct tape so the edges wouldn't crumble off.  Then I folded freezer paper around the form and taped it into shape so I could just slip it into the shoe box to make bars with sharper edges and corners.  It worked pretty well.

The shoe box, along with all the things with which I experimented and the many lessons I learned along the way, is part of my soapmakng roots.

And it's a good thing I still have it. 

Just the other day a customer told me she really loved my Luxury Bar soap, and wondered if I could make it for her in a larger size.  I said, "Yes, of course!" not having any idea how I would actually do that.  When I got home and started to think about it, however, I remembered the shoe box.  I got it out, dusted it off, took measurements and made calculations, and figured out that it would work perfectly.  Voila! 

I just think there's something charming about the idea that my old beat-up DIY shoe box mold is being brought back into service.  Thinking about it even as I write this is already bringing back many fond memories!

Milling soap

At one of my markets the other day, a woman politely but firmly told me that she only uses triple milled soap. 

I wanted to ask whether she had any idea what milled soap really is. But instead I smiled politely and a little wistfully, as if to say, "Oh well, I guess you've got me on that one!  I only make natural handcrafted soap!"

Milling soap is one thing for a handcrafted soapmaker, and a very different thing for a commercial soap manufacturer.

For a soapmaker, milling or hand milling soap is rebatching.  You take soap you've already made, grate it up, add some liquid, heat it until the two have uniformly combined, add whatever extras you're going to put in, and pour it into molds. 

Personally, I've never seen the sense in making soap twice, but rebatching has its uses.  Its greatest asset is that you can add certain ingredients without exposing them to the chemical reaction between the lye and the oils, or the heat that the reaction generates.  Milk added to rebatched soap will not discolor it.  Rose petals will retain their color instead of turning brown and ugly.  Essential oils (eucalyptus, for example) whose fragrance would otherwise be evaporated by the heat during saponification will be unharmed and delightful to the nose.  And you can pour rebatched soap into individual molds that would be difficult or impossible to use with standard cold process soap.

(Rebatching is also a technique for salvaging a failed or improperly formulated batch of soap, but I'm not even going to touch that.  If it's bad soap, dispose of it properly.)

Commercially milled soap is an entirely different matter.  Briefly, french or triple milling is a manufacturing process that involves extracting the moisturising, skin-softening glycerin that's naturally in the soap, and drying the soap into pellets.  Inexpensive chemicals are usually added to make up for the loss of the glycerin, and the pellets are then passed several times through a rolling mill, producing a paste that can be compacted into nice hard bars.  The extracted glycerin is much more profitable to the manufacturer when used in lotions, creams, and other cosmetic products. (And if you have any doubts, check this out!)

In essence, the notion that triple milled soap is somehow better or of higher quality than soap that's milled twice or -- oh my god! -- a soap that is NOT EVEN MILLED ONCE is simply advertising spin.  A process that adds to the manufacturer's bottom line and significantly decreases the benefits to the consumer is touted as one that increases it.

It's . . . what was that phrase that caused such a flap during the 2008 Presidential campaign . . . ?

Also, check out our December 2009 update, Milling soap part II.

The joy of making liquid soap

I just have to say this: I LOVE making liquid soap. I love it!

Bar soaps can be so touchy. The temperatures of the lye solution and the oils need to be within a certain range before you can combine them. Depending on the oils used, trace can happen quickly or it can take forever. ("Trace" is the soapmaking term for the point at which the soap batter is sufficiently thick to pour into molds.) Adding certain essential or fragrance oils can dangerously accelerate the saponification process and result in soap batter that thickens so quickly it can't even be poured.

In short, there are a number of problems one can run into when making bar soaps, you can't always predict them, and you've always got to be on your toes.

Liquid soap, on the other hand, is wonderfully low-maintenance and very forgiving. The oils just need to be very warm to moderately hot.  No thermometers necessary.  Just touch the side of the stockpot. And the potassium hydroxide solution doesn't need to be cooled down before it's mixed with the oils. As soon as it's dissolved, pour it in. None of the potential or unanticipated problems that can happen with bar soapmaking are applicable to liquid soapmaking.

Having recently made a number of small batches of bar soaps to test new fragrance blends for the fall and holidays, all of which were touchy and nerve-wracking, it was a particular joy yesterday to make a no-fuss, predictable, and wonderful batch of liquid soap. 

Just wanted to share with this one.  Thanks for indulging me . . . !

Edgewater Soaps has been Yelped!

I must thank my good friend Julie for Yelping Edgewater Soaps. As you may know, Yelp! is one of those websites like CraigsList that's national but has local sub-sites for cities and towns across the country. Yelp! enables anyone who wants to submit their own personal review of anything from a restaurant or retail outlet to an event or just about anything else.

So when my friend Julie, who loves my soaps and is just a terrific person, offered to write a testimonial that I could use on my website or in an e-mail newsletter, I said "You are WONDERFUL! And if you really will do that, I'd love it if you would do that as a review on Yelp!"

And here's why, I told her: just type the words handcrafted soap chicago into Google, and what's the very first site that comes up? Yelp! And if your testimonial is on Yelp!, I can link to it on my website or from an e-mail newsletter. Kill two birds with one stone, as they say. (But please don't tell the PETA people I used that horrible expression that treats violence toward innocent creatures so casually and ought to be stricken from the English language! I have never killed even one bird with a stone.)

If you'd like to read the review or add your own, just Yelp!