Soaper Lane!
Nov. 13th, 2012 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
On Saturday I got together with
thorngrove, to learn the mysteries of the soapmaker.
I've been doing some reading linked to my current putter in medieval cosmetics, and soap falls into this category, albeit as a relatively late addition to the range of cosmetic products - and had mentioned I'd love to have a go. Luckily
thorngrove proved, as always a terrific resource and teacher, as well as a fine hostess.
Soapmaking is essentially home chemistry, complete with goggles, face mask and gloves, to put caustic soda together with your choice of favourite fats, and then the smellies added at the last stage before pouring into moulds.
With domestic servants on hand (in the form of crock pots, hand-held blender and digital thermometer) to make the fiddly bits easier, the whole process is way simpler than I ever expected, though it requires care and attention. If I had to guess at the temperature of the fats and the soda solution, and then stir the mix by hand for 'til trace', I might not be nearly as keen. Making medieval soap, from soda ash onward, would be just plain hard work.
The key step I learned was
thorngrove's careful matching the temperatures of the two mixes (liquid fats and caustic soda solution).
The fat is slow to heat, but slow to lose its heat too. Adding soda to the water for an alkali solution results in instant chemical heat - the solution goes from ambient temperature (11 deg C, sitting outside on the doorstep) to over 70 deg in the time the soda takes to dissolve.
But it's quick to lose its heat as well, so the remaining fiddly step was to get the slowly-warming fat and the quickly-cooling soda solution to the same temperature, then quickly mix them and whisk them with the blender.
I'll go back and re-read the instructions I've seen for making soap - but I didn't remember any mention of carefully matching temperatures of the two mixes, to give you the best chance of a smooth mix, and quick 'trace'.
We ended up trying out 4 different recipes for soap (one hot process, three cold process) most of which were left at her home to cure, while I took one batch home on the train...in a Pringles tin - the handy disposable mould! We'd planned five batches, but four proved a full day's work.
My sweetie, wonderfully, came out to the suburbs for the visit, and spent the afternoon ensconced on L's sofa, sipping wine (no visit is complete chez
thorngrove without a bottle of red) and gorging on jewellery books from her excellent specialist library.
I think we're all resolved to Do This More Often (tm). L has so many excellent tools, toys and materials, and all three of us want to make stuff (jewellery, mostly!); it's just a matter of picking the weekend to commit to it.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I've been doing some reading linked to my current putter in medieval cosmetics, and soap falls into this category, albeit as a relatively late addition to the range of cosmetic products - and had mentioned I'd love to have a go. Luckily
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Soapmaking is essentially home chemistry, complete with goggles, face mask and gloves, to put caustic soda together with your choice of favourite fats, and then the smellies added at the last stage before pouring into moulds.
With domestic servants on hand (in the form of crock pots, hand-held blender and digital thermometer) to make the fiddly bits easier, the whole process is way simpler than I ever expected, though it requires care and attention. If I had to guess at the temperature of the fats and the soda solution, and then stir the mix by hand for 'til trace', I might not be nearly as keen. Making medieval soap, from soda ash onward, would be just plain hard work.
The key step I learned was
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
The fat is slow to heat, but slow to lose its heat too. Adding soda to the water for an alkali solution results in instant chemical heat - the solution goes from ambient temperature (11 deg C, sitting outside on the doorstep) to over 70 deg in the time the soda takes to dissolve.
But it's quick to lose its heat as well, so the remaining fiddly step was to get the slowly-warming fat and the quickly-cooling soda solution to the same temperature, then quickly mix them and whisk them with the blender.
I'll go back and re-read the instructions I've seen for making soap - but I didn't remember any mention of carefully matching temperatures of the two mixes, to give you the best chance of a smooth mix, and quick 'trace'.
We ended up trying out 4 different recipes for soap (one hot process, three cold process) most of which were left at her home to cure, while I took one batch home on the train...in a Pringles tin - the handy disposable mould! We'd planned five batches, but four proved a full day's work.
My sweetie, wonderfully, came out to the suburbs for the visit, and spent the afternoon ensconced on L's sofa, sipping wine (no visit is complete chez
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I think we're all resolved to Do This More Often (tm). L has so many excellent tools, toys and materials, and all three of us want to make stuff (jewellery, mostly!); it's just a matter of picking the weekend to commit to it.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-13 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-14 11:34 am (UTC)Next time I'll stick to ingredients available in medieval times, and to a medieval recipe, if I can find one.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-14 04:33 pm (UTC)I'm just curious.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-15 10:38 am (UTC)Olive oil and animal fats were best known sources of fat, whereas palm oil, coconut oil, shea butter and others available to us now were unknown, or difficult to obtain.
Potash was extracted by mixing water with wood ash, and it takes an awful lot of ash to wash through the ash to generate the alkali
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potash
So in that regard, we can buy a high-quality, pure chemical very cheaply, compared to the work-intensive process of extracting alkali from ash.
We also have access to a wide range of scents, in convenient forms, many of which weren't known to western Europe. I can buy ready-made rosewater or orange water without having to make it myself.
Recipes: I have a modern book about historic cosmetics with a conjectural recipe for 17th c soap, so far. Actual medieval recipes are pretty rare.
Recipes for other cosmetics I've tried so far, from mid-1500s:
http://www.medievalcookery.com/notes/treasurie.pdf
So what I'd likely be making is castile soap (olive-oil base) with some scent combination described in a Renaissance source.
Are you interested in medieval stuff, or in soap, or both?
no subject
Date: 2012-11-15 01:15 pm (UTC)Thank you for the information. I'm wishing you good luck in your experiments.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-14 04:49 am (UTC)Our experiments were done in her garage using much safety equipment (goggles, masks, rubber gloves, aprons) and modern aids (fat was heated on the stove, we used a candy thermometer to check temps and an electric paint stirrer was employed to save our arms as trace can take 1-2 hours).
The soap, although a success as far as the making process was concerned, ended up pale yellow in colour and rather harsh on the hands. I still have a goodly number of them in my linen cupboard. I opened the box about a year ago when I was cleaning and found some had discoloured (brown spots) with time. I kept them anyway. I know I'll probably never use them, but didn't really want to throw out all that hard work either.
It's an interesting process and I'm glad we did it. The instant chemical reaction of the lye and water was cool (er, I mean hot!) It was also pretty neat to see that amazing trace moment after you've been stirring the same soupy consistency for so long and then, quite suddenly, you have soap!
Good luck with your soap. Hope it turns out well! :)