Soap-Making for the First Time

Here's how I came to soapmaking:  I used the beef bones from our quarter of beef to make stock.  There was so much fat on the top that I couldn't bear to throw it away.  It sat in my fridge and freezer for a long time - for a couple of years, I think.  I finally offered it to a local soapmaker, but it didn't fit her method.  Another year went by.  I was shopping for reasonably priced bars of soap for handwashing and suddenly I thought:  why can't I use the tallow and make soap?

melting the fats

So I did. . . . after checking out numerous books from the library, reading some conflicting information online, making copious notes, and waiting for a time at home alone (not wise to work with lye around little kids who don't understand how caustic it is or how the fumes can get around).

I bought coconut oil from the Latino store nearby.  I bought lye from the hardware store in the town where I work.  I borrowed a digital scales because I have an old-school scales that I love and couldn't justify another scales for what might turn out to be a one-time use.  I already owned a stick blender, an instant-read thermometer and a candy thermometer; the tallow was a waste-product from making stock, and I keep the distilled water on hand for my iron.

I lined a cardboard box with pieces of heavy plastic I cut from a bag.  This was my mold.

I read my notes one more time, set out all the equipment, and off I went!  The actual soapmaking process is pretty simple:  make the fats melted and warm, add the lye to water and get the temperature down to warm, blend the fats with the lye/water until thickened, pour in a soap mold, cut into bars after 24 hours, cure for 6 weeks. 

the cardboard mold on top of my fridge for 24 hours - I'm afraid that's how my fridge usually looks

If you're going to make soap, however, do not rely on me for directions, but consider this post inspiration and introduction only.  I highly recommend Smart Soapmaking by Anne L. Watson, although I did not bother to test the finished bars with pH strips, nor did I get completely suited with protective gear when I handled the lye but rather acted with caution and purpose as my grandmothers would have.  I wore gloves and an old apron. 

 

 

It was hard to find a tallow recipe that suited the amount I had, but I found one at Miller's Soap that I halved, check on a lye calculator, and used:

Tallow Blend Soap
22 oz. tallow
10 oz. olive oil
10 oz. coconut oil
5.8 oz. lye crystals
16 oz. distilled water

The soap is pale green because when I make stock, I add vegetable tops and the resulting stock and fat has a shade of green in it.  I did not add scent because I love subtly scented soap such as shea butter, honey, oatmeal, or goat's milk.

Now the soap is sitting on its plant nursery tray in a closet to cure.  It is drying out and hardening up some more.  I can't wait to get out the first bar next year!  There was a little piece stuck in the corner of the plastic bag, so I stuck that on my kitchen bar and it seems to be quite nice.  I'm a little surprised that I made soap and it works! 

I'm adding this to my list of homemaking skills and probably when I've saved enough waste-fat, I'll make soap again.