Issue 31, containing: Easy Ways to Explode One’s Kitchen, A Lip Pomatum (for the At-Home Apothecary), &c.

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SOME EDITORIAL NOTES

Another issue? So soon? YES I AM ALSO SURPRISED.

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EASY WAYS TO EXPLODE ONE’S KITCHEN

Gentle readers may recall the start of my apothecarical interest was, to an extent, the joy of Syllabubs (in too many issues to list here)–but when I first started wandering into the world of household goods, my gateway drug was a simple recipe in Nicolas Lémery’s Arcana Curiosa: Or Modern Curiosities of Art and Nature. 

I have hinted at what that process was like, but have only ever written it up elsewhere–let me share it here now, the first write-up I made in May of 2022.

The text reads:

“A Pomatum for the Lips. Take Four Ounces fresh Butter, and an Ounce of Virgin’s Wax, melt ’em together, and when you have boil’d a Quarter of an Hour, strain and take your Pomatum from the FIre; then take Two Spoonfuls of Orange-flower-water, with which boil again and again; then thicken with a little Orcanet, which you have diluted with some Orange-flower-water, and beat up your Pomatum with a Spoon, taking it from the Fire and setting it to cool.”

In my first experiment with this pomatum, I changed the butter for coconut oil, because of who I am as a person. I also used a cleaned yellow beeswax (note: in the recent past I tried a rendered white wax and it looked unfortunately like an unappealing paraffin when complete, and so I would not recommend it).

I forgot to boil everything, but I did leave it on the range for about thirteen minutes or so before bothering it with the next instruction or ingredient–the wax and oil melted very quickly (surprise surprise), but it did smoke a bit further into the process, so I wonder if anything got burnt off. (Something something burning points something? Perhaps.)

What with the 21st-century purity of the stuff being used, there was no reason to strain anything, so I skipped that step–which, put a bookmark on that, because it may have caused me to move on to the next step slightly too fast. 

Orange-flower water I had in abundance–

–and I prepared a soup spoon (since that seemed closest to whatever “spoonful” might be in these contexts). However, upon dropping in the spoonful, I very quickly discovered that without a moment or three for everything to cool down, what happens is that the entire mix explodes in an astonishing fountain of aerosolized wax. 

Behold, the aftermath on a stove-top:

I prudently removed the mixture from the flame at that point. I less than prudently tried putting in the second spoonful, because obviously I only had the theory that that was a bad idea, and as we all know science requires that results be reproducible.

Even with my small sample size, I afterward felt confident in my conclusion that one should wait until the mixture has cooled somewhat–and possibly been strained, just to add more air–before adding the flower water.

After the various explosions, I did try to “boil and boil again,” but it didn’t seem to do much. I instead just stirred it every once in a while while I was mixing up the next bit of the recipe.

As I mentioned previously, I do not enjoy the concept of casually giving others liver damage, so for this first batch I ended up switching the alkanet with arrowroot powder and cosmetic-grade colored mica. The mica did give a nice color, but the arrowroot creates a…fascinating goo that must be discarded, and the majority of the mica gathers within it.

To be honest, though, I’m not sure how much the arrowroot actually thickened anything, and I’m really not sure the mica added any color. I think I’m going to need to try something more robust in future if I want to replicate the alkanet effect.

As I mixed that all together with a little more orange-flower water, I took the wax mix off the stove and set it to cool. Feeling that I had Learned My Lesson somewhat, I also hauled some ice packs out of the freezer and set it up around the saucepan to cool it faster (because “patience” is something that happens to other people).

I was, after a minute or so, able to put tiny drops of the mica mix into the wax-and-oil. They spat and rang a bit, so if that sort of alchemy excites you, hooray. That being said, I should have probably let it cool even further–so let us say, if you put anything into the superheated wax and oil, add first a tiny drop, and check to see if it sinks and solidifies a bit like an egg yolk in its shell–that seems to be a good level of warmth/chill to do the next bit.

The instructions say to “beat [it] with a Spoon”–I found, however, that a tiny whisk was infinitely preferable. As soon as the mica was thoroughly mixed into the wax (which took a couple of minutes, longer than I would have assumed), I then hauled out some lip balm sampler containers, spooned some of the finished pomatum into them, and threw them in the freezer because, again, I am Patience Personified.

The finished product was, to be frank, kind of lovely to look at:

I took the opportunity to scoop up some of the warm pomatum and apply it on some of my dry skin–it soaked in very easily, though left my hands a little greasy. As a lip balm, though, it was and is excellent. When cooled, it’s definitely a more solid kind of balm, but it still melts excellently and not too fast:

…But here’s the thing.

When I first tried this pomatum, I was deeply surprised to learn how little the “old auntie’s potpourri” smell remained from the undiluted orange-flower water. Instead there was a certain…depth.  Similar to the more woodsy/herbal scents that I also happen to favor, like sandalwood and such. But also a sweetness? My lips didn’t taste of anything I could readily discern, but I was very happy to have the scent of the pomatum wafting upward.

I then left my apartment for about an hour; enough time for my sense of smell to return to neutral, so that I could return and get a fresh impression of what cooking this stuff–or, let us say, using it regularly–would make the environs smell like. I was fully expecting something smoky and unpleasant that I just hadn’t clocked when I was still in the apartment.

And gentle reader: It. Smelled. Like. Cookies. 

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A LIP POMATUM (FOR THE AT-HOME APOTHECARY)

Now, in 2024, after two years of experimentation and study, I have a proper recipe that you, gentle readers, can also follow.

• 4 ounces (1/2 cup) oil, coconut or sweet almond
• 1 ounce clean yellow beeswax
• 2 teaspoons arrowroot powder
• 2+ tablespoons room temperature orange-flower water

Set your cooktop to 130℉ (a low simmer). Fill a small pan with a scant 1-inch of water and set it to heat. Put oil and wax into a silicone melt pot and put in water to create an ad hoc bain-marie. Melt for 15 minutes or until completely incorporated together. Take off heat, whisk to aerate and cool enough to add orange-flower water. (TEST TO AVOID EXPLOSION.) Heat again for 5 minutes; while heating, make a paste of more orange-flower water and arrowroot powder in a small cup. Take off heat, add arrowroot paste, and whisk together for several minutes until completely mixed. Pour into containers; there may be an ARROWROOT GOO that sinks to the bottom of the melt pot. Try and avoid pouring it into the containers, but if it does, it can be spooned out again (though it will not have as nice a top to it). Makes about 20 5g containers–but probably more.

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ANNOUNCEMENTS

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-Until next time, be safe.