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."

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?

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!

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 . . . !