Sunday, January 30, 2011

Experimental Soap

Today I made soap for the first time - there are no pictures, because I was too busy trying not to mess it up or blind myself with lye or something like that, but hopefully there will be finished-soap pictures later. I'd love to say I made a flawless first batch, but there were some fascinating problems and some frantic mid-project internet searching and still the soap had to be rebatched. No permanent disfigurement, though, so that's good.

Not being one to do things by halves, I chose to start out with a goat-milk soap. I couldn't find a recipe I liked (I wanted to use my tallow, and no other fats), so I came up with my own with a lye calculator. I added some honey for moisturizing, but figured I'd leave it at that - no scents or colors or froofroo nonsense. Basic, I thought. Simple. Ha.

I added my lye to my milk (which immediately turned oompaloompa orange, but no biggie, I'm not picky), and started melting the frozen tallow while the lye/milk solution cooled down. When the tallow was melted, I turned back to lye/milk.... which was, now, soap. No, really. It was a block of spongy, putrid-smelling, orange soap, that leaked orange/brown vile lye-heavy liquid when I broke it up with the spoon. It gave off ammonia fumes like nothing I've ever seen - never mind goggles, I need a respirator! I ventilated the kitchen as best I can, grabbed the cat, and strategically retreated to the living room (closing the kitchen door behind me).

Woe is me! My first soap, ruined before I've even started! The internet, however, assured me that all is well. This sometimes happens with lye/milk solutions, I gather. The milk fats saponify too early, and goat-milk soap often reeks of ammonia. It's ok, it's nothing a stick blender can't fix.

Well, alright then. I'm game.

Back to the (slightly dizzying) kitchen, stick blender in hand. I added the gloppy, foul solution to my glorious, untarnished tallow, cringing slightly and thinking of donuts that could have been. I did my level best with the stick blender to break up bits of lye-heavy milkfat-soap, sclurching it into the rest of the bottle-tan mess. It's a lot of stickblending, and I was getting nervous: goat milk is sugary, and supposedly brings soap to trace quickly - I was also adding honey, which does the same. The mix looked thick - like the pictures I'd seen of "light trace" - so... I'm done? I added the honey, mixed it in thoroughly, and carefully poured the pumpkin-mousse concoction into a loaf pan.

My thoughts, as I putter around the kitchen and living room for the next hour or so:
I hope it sets.
It looks like it's setting!  
I did it! I made soap!
Huh. That was easier than I thought.
It turned white? Why did it turn white?
Maybe the goat milk didn't get as hot as I thought. Maybe the white is the milk... decarmelizing?
No, that's stupid. Hopeful, but stupid.
Well, the only thing -white- in the soap is... the tallow.
Ah, criminy.

It separated. The liquid tallow came to the top and made a lovely white layer, leaving a layer of pumpkin-colored, ammonia-scented, lye-heavy, lose-your-fingerprints-ask-me-how-i-know caustic soap underneath. We had a brief conference about whether this was likely to correct itself overnight, in which HD allowed me to use him as a sounding board to work out my own knowledge of, and unwillingness to accept, the correct answer. No - this will not fix itself by resting over night, or even over many nights. The fats needed to balance the lye are no longer in emulsion, saponification will not occur.

This calls for rebatching.

I scooped the still-soft failed batch out of the loaf pan and into a new, smaller pot (I felt part of the problem had been using too large a pot for such a small batch, and right-sizing the pot would help). I put it all on low heat and let it melt, adding just a smidge of cow milk to help it along (also, in case a lack of fluid in general was part of the problem, given how much got tied up in the earlier premature saponification problem). I took the stick blender back to it, and brought it all the way to a heavy trace - a texture like very thick brownie batter. It was on heat the whole time, which seems to have helped the ammonia problem. I also added cocoa powder and ground coffee (dry) for scent and color, and preliminary evidence suggests this will be a beautiful darker soap with a pleasant coffee scent. I should know in a few days, I guess. In the meantime, I'm thinking of it as "Mocha Latte" soap, until a catchier name or contrary evidence appears.

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