Basil, Lime and Coconut Milk








Originally, I was going to name this soap '9th Avenue' because it has all the ingredients for Thai food (coconut milk and oil, basil, lemongrass, lime, ginger) and there are a ton of Thai restaurants on 9th in Hell's Kitchen—too many really—on some blocks there're four of them. But in light of this soap's appearance, I've nixed the snarkiness and am being straightforward.

It's a rebatch of soap I'd made using some of that beeswax I'd rendered last year. I made balls with some of the overly rustic honey/beeswax soap then rolled them in powdered lime basil before embedding them. The effect just didn't work. Hideous, actually. The embeds had a regulated look to them—although the embeds I made with the same soap looked great in Plan Bee. Go figure.

So everything got shredded and melted down in some coconut milk. It's still not a pretty soap, but the coconut milk makes for a creamy lather. And it smells great. And makes your skin feel fab.

To make up for the soap's humble appearance, I package it using fabric samples that a decorating store on the Upper Eastside was tossing out. My mother was a decorator when I was growing up and she had tons of swatch books that would get tossed when the fabric was discontinued. She gave a lot of them to a neighbor who pieced the swatches into quilts and cushions. My Barbie doll house also had its fair share of brocade draperies.






The look is a little clunky (so were my Barbie's drapes), but no glue or sewing was involved and it's kind of sustainable.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

Shaken and Stirred




Martini glass courtesy of American Retro Bar and Grill—a lovely place to have martinis

 

I had this soap in my imagination a long time before it finally came to be—and it's not quite the way I pictured it, but I've gotten over that.

It's a soap version of a martini in the shape of an olive. I'm a purist when it comes to martinis, by the way. They should only come in two flavors: gin or vodka. If it tastes like chocolate or peaches, it's not a martini. It is acceptable (and wonderful) however to infuse you vodka with rosemary or mint or any other herb.

Anyway, back to the soap. The 'olive' part made with a lye infusion of reduced dry vermouth (recently found in my cupboard and leftover from an old, old boyfriend who made the best dirty martinis I ever had) and juniper berries (from my garden). The concoction smelled pretty…powerful when I mixed it, but I'm beginning to actually like the smell of lye and booze. I hope that's not an indication of some strange neuroses.





My lye mixture


 

I knew the vermouth was going to darken the soap and my olive oil infused with lemongrass and lime basil might end up muddy, so I added some French green clay. Essential oils of juniper, lime and may chang. This was all poured into a mold I made from a mailing tube with a paper towel roll inside to create a cavity for the 'pimento' part.

My mold

It's sort of a reverse embed. The pimento was made of melt and pour soap with Moroccan red clay (that's what my (Not Seeing) Red experiment was all about). I figured an embed of melt and pour would probably lose its shape when cold process soap was poured over it.

And the olive part came out fine—a perfect shade of green. I took it out of the mold after a day and then turned it into a mold (or so I thought) by rubber banding a Ziploc bag on the bottom.

But alas! When I poured the melt and pour into the cavity it began leaking out the bottom. Which is odd since the cold process didn't leak out...

I panicked. This was not a cheap recipe. The red clay, melt and pour base and essential oils cost the same as a night drinking real martinis in the Meat Packing District. I was not going to let this go to waste.

So I started scooping the leaked-out soap back into the cavity while adding shredded soap scraps I had hanging around. Eventually, the melt and pour started to cool at the bottom and created a seal so it stopped leaking out. I ended up with a not-so-solid reddish, pinkish center.

But months later, it's cured and fabulous. Really lush, stiff lather. I love it for shaving my legs and the fragrance is intoxicating, of course.

I might give a bar to that old, old boyfriend who made the great dirty martinis. I haven't spoken to him ages. Maybe he's been deported.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

Downstairs Seating Only


 

 
The name of this soap—Downstairs Seating Only—does not refer to the area of your body it's supposed to be used on. In fact, I don't recommend using this soap on your downstairs area at all.

Downstairs Seating Only is a phrase Gray Line Tour Guides will say thousands of times between now and Labor Day. Summer is our busiest season. It's the cheapest (and worst) time of year to come to NYC—and everybody wants to ride on the top of the double decker bus (the best way to see the city). It fills up quickly.

When new passengers board, we have to tell them, "Downstairs seating only." Sometimes they're understanding and patient and are fine with waiting until somebody gets off from the top. Sometimes they don't believe us and go up anyway (with their three kids, grandmother and bulky stroller) only to come down disappointed. Sometimes they get very angry. One year, I had a guy kick the glass out of the bus's door.

Meanwhile, when we're actually giving the tour— upstairs —it's 95 degrees and insanely muggy and their doing construction all over the city and it's like riding through a dust storm. And the sunscreen that doesn't really work is dripping in your eyes. And there's a little kid screaming, "I have to poop." And nobody is listening to us say that the last boat cruise went out at 3:30. And we know half of them won't tip and we're lucky if we get $8.26 by the end of the tour that we have to split with the driver who's been on the phone the whole time fighting with his girlfriend.

And we're thinking about going home to our apartments that we just spent the day trying to pay for, turning on the A/C and taking a shower with a bar of soap that will truly wash away the disgustingness of the day.

And Downstairs Seating Only will do just that. Lots of scrubbing action from my favorite exfoliate, cornmeal. French green clay to help draw out the construction dust that mixes with the sunscreen. A generous dose of moisturizing shea. And the fragrance! A refreshing combo of mints, rosemary, basil, eucalyptus and orange.

Makes the job seem worthwhile.

Neroli and Black Pepper





Miguelina! was insanely popular—I think it was mostly because of the fragrance. Who can resist neroli?

Neroli (Citrus Vulgaris) comes from the bitter orange tree. It's said to have gotten its name from the princess of Nerola, Italy, Anne Marie Orsini who used the essential oil in her bath and to fragrance her gloves. Neroli is thought to be an antidepressant, a sedative and an aphrodisiac. It's also said to help regenerate skin cells and promote smoother skin.

And of course it smells heavenly—spicy, honey-ish and very floral. In perfumery, it's used as a both a base note and a top note.

When I created (that word sounds a little pompous here, doesn't it?) Miguelina's fragrance I blended the neroli with some vetiver, clove and tea tree essential oils. Since I was out of those when I made this batch, I used ylang ylang, may chang, orange and black pepper.

Black pepper (Piper Nigru) added a dry, warm pungency that I think makes the blend more sophisticated.  

Soap-wise, I played with melt and pour embeds again, but this time I let the embed go through the whole loaf of soap. I like the effect and how the light comes through. And it made it easier to cut. No whacky splintering.



Subplot Soap: Spring 2013





As New York digs out of a blizzard and plunges into Fashion Week, Subplot Soap unlocks the doors of its curing facilities to unveil The Spring Collection.

Don't look for garish pastel colors reminiscent of cavity-inducing Easter candy. The hues this season are earthy and sophisticated. Hemlines are crisper—and for the most part, even.  

Look for playful embeds that keep bars from being too straight-laced. Unexpected ingredients like Himalayan pink sea salt, cheap red wine, coffee butter and lime basil will wake up your skin and get it ready to ditch the parkas and itchy wool socks.

Fragrances from Subplot Soap this spring feature bold blends with ginger, black pepper, crisp citruses and notes of the exotic. Think smart, sexy and just a little bit snarky.

The bars, like any haute couture collection will be limited to a select few lather fashionistas.  Wanna be one of them? See what's available.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

Photos of Soap I Never Blogged About

It's not that I don't love them…just haven't gotten around to writing a post about 'em.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

Be My Guest Soap

Made these for my mom to give as Christmas gifts.

They're trimmings and scraps that I molded together while the soap was still soft. About a week later I'd put a hole in the center using a chopstick and string each bar on some jute. Once I'd gotten three bars on a line, I hung them in my closet to finish curing and hardening.

I love the idea that so many people I don't even know will be lathering up with my soap this year.

Pomegranate and Mint #2

I had a request for more Pomegranate and Mint for a friend to give as Christmas gifts.

I tweaked the recipe and jazzed it up a bit. I love using balls. They're so playful and fun. These are hot process using lard which was scary to me. I was afraid the heat would make the lard piggy-smelling. Not so, I guess after the lard saponifies, heat isn't an issue.

It's actually a big, tedious job to make over a pound of balls—about half way through, I decided I was over making them and used the remaining soap to create the base (which is now the top). I think it looks good. Sometimes laziness pays off.  The little line separating the top from the greenish part and the lines around the balls are brought to you by powdered mint.

Note that I didn't trim these bars. After looking at thousands of soap photos online, I've become enamored with a nice, sharp edge.

Ingredients:

olive oil pomace infused with lemon balm and mint

palm kernel oil

coconut oil

lard

castor oil

powdered mint

NYC Tap Water

Fragrance:

peppermint, wintergreen, clove, ho wood and tea tree essential oils.
pomegranate and vanilla fragrance oil

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

More Olive Oil Soap




The soap looks a little raggedy here, but the photo is cool. Taken from my roof.



So maybe this soap (and its variations) will become my signature soap.

It's so easy to make and showcases the different herbs from The Readers' and Writers' Subplot. And since it's fragrance-free, it's great for people with allergies and asthma—yet it still has a slight scent from the herbs.

Do the benefits of herbs survive the lye? Who knows? I've read opinions on both sides. Plus there's the school of thought that there are no benefits from anything in soap because it's a wash-off product.

That I totally don't believe.

Anyway, I wait about twenty minutes between making and pouring the layers. It seems the right amount of time to let the soap firm up enough to hold another layer.

People say it looks like vegetable terrine. Or sedimentary rock. I'm the only one that thinks it looks like bacon.

Still not fond of the word 'castile.'



Cleaned up and in the garden.



Herbs used: hyssop, lemon balm, orange mint, lemon verbena, pineapple sage, passion flower, chamomile, lemongrass, basil, eucalyptus, Russian sage, dill and some powdered rosemary.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries



Olive Oil Soap

Simple soap. Simple recipe.

100% olive oil.

Each layer infused with different herbs: golden oregano, sage, rosemary, star anise, bronze fennel, lemon balm, lemon thyme, cilantro, Mexican cilantro, Thai basil and nettle. A tiny line of powdered sage for a little contrast.

Everything except the star anise was grown in the Readers' and Writers' Subplot of Oasis Community Garden.

Unscented. Super mild.

Wish it didn't look like bacon.

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

My First Request: JJ's Lemon and Basil Soap

A rather long story on how the soap came to be.

JJ is a driver I work with at Grayline. He's one of my favorites. We always have a lot of fun—even if we've got a bus load of arrogant Italians that won't shut up or cheap Americans that won't tip.  He's from the Islands, so he's very laid back.

When I mentioned that I'd started making soap, he told me that he used to buy this great Lemon and Basil Soap from a woman at the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, but she's not there all the time.

"I'll make you some soap," I said.

"How much should I give you for the ingredients?" he asked.

"First bar is free," I said, knowing that this is exactly how drug dealers operate.  And soap is kind of a drug. "You just have to let me pick up some shea butter when we stop in Harlem."

There's a guy that sells fragrance oils of knock-off perfumes, shea butter ($10 for a whole pound), cocoa butter and black African soap on 125th Street right next to our stop. I always try to get tourists to get off there—not just for the shea butter guy, but for everything in Harlem. Most of them don't get off. I think they're afraid—the 1970's Harlem is still in their collective memories.

So, I jumped off when we got to the stop and bought some shea in less than 30 seconds.

Then I had to come up with a real great recipe. The basil part was easy. I bought a big bag of dried basil from this market near Port Authority. I only had a smidge of Thai basil that I had grown last summer left and I wanted an infusion that would be really basil-ed out.

The lemon however was going to be tricky. Lemon juice and lye don't mix. Lemon juice neutralizes lye, so you end up with a pot full of oils. I didn't want to do lemon peels either, so decided to rebatch. I found this lemon juice that's ironically from Italy (and I should say that any generalizations I make about any nationalities are based on my experience with tourists—and people on vacation—no matter where they're from are always on their worst behavior) and it actually contains lemon essential oil. Bonus.



If you see this in the store--buy it!

Last problem was fragrance. Citrus is fleeting. I'd been reading about how may chang works as an anchor and a boost on citruses. My normal fragrance guys (Exotic Fragrances, Scents Elate, and Gold Star Fragrances) didn't stock it—and hadn't even heard of it. I really don't like ordering things online. I don't have a doorman, so I have to have stuff shipped to my local bar, Perdition. PLUS, I live in the center of the center of the universe. I believe everything I need or want can be found somewhere in the five boroughs.

After some internet sleuthing, I found Enfleurage in the West Village. They have a ton of amazing essential oils. Some I didn't even know existed. Shell oil, rice paddy herb, artichoke, mak nhieu. I ended up spending about $60—but have got some very fun essentials to play with.

So, basil-infused olive oil was rebatched using the lemon juice and scented with holy basil, sage (to green up the spiciness of the holy basil), may chang, bergamot and lemon essential oils. Then a top layer with a little more shea that added a light lemony color. And some corn meal for scrubbiness.

When I gave a bar to JJ, I told him he had to wait about a month before he could use it since it was still curing.

He looked pretty disappointed, but then held it up to his nose and sniffed. "This smells so good," he said.

Ingredients:

olive oil infused with basil and Thai basil

shea butter

palm kernel oil

cottonseed oil

soybean oil

castor oil

distilled water infused with basil

Polenghi lemon juice

cornmeal

powdered basil

Myrtle Soap for My Mom #1



Scented with neroli orange blossom and may change essential oils



My mom's birthday is coming up in May, so I'm going to give her a bunch of soap that all have myrtle in them (that's her given name, but she never really liked it, she goes by Holly).

The balls in this are made from myrtle-infused olive oil. I then rolled the balls in powdered lemon balm. It bled, but I actually like it. Happy accident.

More myrtle soap to come.

Ingredients:

olive oil infused with myrtle/annatto seeds

shea butter

palm kernel oil

cottonseed  oil

soybean oil

castor oil

powdered lemon balm

If you like this blog, check out my new one: The Haley Maxwell Soap Making Mysteries

Lavender and Lemon Balm

I need to start coming up with clever names for my soap.

I'm thrilled with how herbs color oils, which in turn, color soap. And I'm already researching and planning what I'll grow in Oasis next season (I'm thinking lady's bedstraw, madder—maybe some indigo). I'm also fascinated with the textures .

The outer layers of this soap were made with lemon balm infused olive oil that I re-batched using lemon balm infused distilled water. Love the  golden-yellow-brown color. The inner bit is infused with lavender.  I added leftover lavender soap chunks for some contrast and a strip of ground lemon balm (that turned a beautiful dark brown) for fun.

Using herbs in soap has endless possibilities. If only they would keep their fragrance.

To liken this to writing: I've learned how to write a sentence (make soap) and now I'm learning a new vocabulary (using herbs in different ways) to write a more interesting sentence.

At this point, I'm not sure what I want the sentence to say, I just want to play and experiment until I find a voice.

Ingredients:

olive oil infused with lemon balm/lavender

distilled water infused with lemon balm

palm kernel oil

coconut oil

castor oil

ground lemon balm

lavender and lemon essential oils

Gardeners' Soap: Lavender, Rosemary and Lemon Balm



Gonna leave a bar of this in Oasis in the spring (will it ever come?).



I made this soap with gardening in mind. I always get filthy when I garden (I always forget my gloves and I love getting down and dirty anyway), so added some ground cornmeal to the lemon balm for scrubbiness. And rosemary is said to be good for aching muscles.

Tried hot process on this one with the lavender balls and made the balls as soon as the soap was cool enough to handle.  I kneaded in shea butter for extra conditioning and ground lavender for interest.

I've decided I'm not a huge fan of hot process. It's OK, but kinda scary in a way and takes so much more time. It was useful though to make the balls so I could add them the next day to the cold process rosemary base.

Ingredients:

Rosemary Base: coconut oil, olive oil (infused with rosemary), soybean oil, cottonseed oil, palm kernel oil, castor oil, distilled water (infused with spirulina and lye. Fragranced with rosemary essential oil.

Lavender Balls: olive oil (infused with lavender), cotton seed oil, palm kernel oil, castor oil, shea butter, ground lavender,  distilled water and lye.   Fragranced with lavender essential oil.

Lemon Balm Top Layer: olive oil (infused with lemon balm), cotton seed oil, palm kernel oil, castor oil, distilled water and lye.   Fragranced with bergamot essential oil.  Also contains cornmeal.