A series of unfortunate soaping events. (To gel, or not to gel)

Soap, man. SOAP.

I’ve decided soap is going to do what soap is going to do.

So there’s a process after you pour the soap called gelling. It’s an exothermic chemical reaction whereupon the soap batter hardens, heats up, turns into a gel like consistency and then cools down. It helps to harden your soap and it changes the texture, colours and smell a bit.

You can prevent gel by sticking freshly poured soap in the fridge or freezer for 24 hours. Or you can alternately promote gel by insulating your soap with towels to keep it warm.

Science, yo.

I mostly gel my soaps. It makes them harder, brightens the colours and makes them easier to unmould.

But I wanted to experiment with some ungelled soap. Mostly to compare textures, but also to compare longevity, bubbles and fragrance hold.

I made a gelled castile (1oo% olive oil), which went hard, plasticky feeling and cut easily after a day in the mould. I made the identical soap, refridgerated it to prevent gel, and then waited to cut.

The cutting window was so small, I’m pretty sure it came and went overnight. Probably around 2am.

I went to bed with soap too soft to cut, and woke up to a brick. A crumbling brick. Thankful for a big knife, I forced the cuts, watching my soap crumble around the edges.

Ungelled soaps 1. Veronica 0.

Ruling it a castile problem, I moved on to my regular recipe, but avoiding gel.

The second soap was gorgeous once I got it out of the mould. Until I tried to cut it. Everything crumbled. The soap itself was nearing too hard to cut and I was worried about it ending up like my castile.

Part of the problem was the round mould. A round soap is tricker to cut because there’s less surface area at the base to diffuse the pressure.

I should have left it alone for another day. Hindsight is a beautiful thing. After two hours of fiddling, I ended up with a bowl full of beautifully smelling soap crumbles I was forced to melt down in a rebatch.

Ungelled soaps 2. Veronica 0.

The next batch was an orange cream soap. I carefully poured and put it in the fridge. After 24 hours it was hard enough to unmould, but not hard enough to cut. The first slice crumbled briefly and I set it aside in the soap curing cupboard to wait a few days.

I am perpetually impatient. This causes problems for me.

It was a sunny day and the room was warm. Soapmakers will see where this was going. My ungelled soap warmed up a little bit, got all excited and tried to gel itself belatedly.

I hadn’t left it in the fridge long enough, clearly. See above, re impatience.

I realised it was going all liquidy in the middle before anything horrible happened, like the entire soap melting over my cupboard. Shoved it into my mould, and carefully popped it into the oven for three hours at 60C, forcing gel phase upon it.

You want gel? I’ll give you gel! ALL THE HEAT.

It turned into a lovely soap (I cut it this morning) with a beautiful orange fragrance. But it nearly didn’t work.

Ungelled soaps 3. Veronica 0.

So I decided, no more avoiding gel. I’m too impatient, I don’t have enough moulds and I like the ease of gelling. It’s only a personal preference thing after all, and I quite like the idea of my soaps being a little harder thanks to gel phase.

This morning, I made soap. “Reindeer Poo” scented. The website describes it as “Reindeer Poo begins with top notes of apples and pears; followed by middle notes of eucalyptus, pine, and geranium; and well-balanced with base notes of vanilla, cedarwood, and patchouli.

I found it strongly pine scented, and carefully I wrapped my soap with towels to keep it warm for gel phase. I tucked it in. I practically sung it a lullaby, hoping that gel phase would soften the pine scent.

You know what’s going to happen here don’t you?

The bastard thing didn’t gel.

All that insulation. All the care. All the careful primping and hoping and wishing and NADA.

Soaps 4. Veronica 0.

It’s Murphy’s law really. I want a gel, and it doesn’t happen. I try to avoid it, and everything goes to hell.

I’m hoping this week has been the last week of chaos in the soap making kitchen. I did get some good batches out of it. The crumbly castile feels lovely, and will make a great soap for me. The orange soap has a wonderful smell which may have been different if I’d successfully kept it opaque and soft. The champagne pomegranate rebatch has a lovely marbled pattern which I’m a big fan of.

And the Reindeer Poo soap?

Well I’m not sure. I’m leaving it alone overnight, in case it changes its mind and heats up.

I’m not holding out too much hope.