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  Fruity hand soaps, moisturizers, emulsifying lotions, pumice stones, and Loofahs don't fucking cut it. We want to cleanse ourselves with the fat of the sweet, dead pig.

Why? The question of why may befuddle even the most nobly, batty individuals, but that doesn't diminish the importance of having something you hold near and dear to you in your soap dish. Bacon is truth, friend. It's not only a food that knows no culinary boundaries, it is a forceful, vengeful, little pile of fat that loves to make things crispy and dangerous.

Bacon makes everything crazy. Tie two hot dogs together with bacon. Strangle Bay scallops with bacon. Devil an egg and then stab it with bacon. Stick seventy-seven strips of bacon up a Cornish hen's ass. Rape a baked potato with bacon. Fuck with your peanut butter sandwich. When it's expecting the grape jam, hit it with the bacon. Crush 6 pounds of the extra crispy stuff and make your soups and salad cry. Oh, and bacon gravy! Throw 97 biscuits into a hot tub full of bacon gravy. Clog arteries. Grow love handles. Eat bacon. Wake up and smell the bacon, Utah.


In the middle of this delirium, the lights came on at the Black Table. The good ol' boot kicked the marble down the slide knocking the bucket off its ledge and we're off. Whoo hoo. We are off. Blenders are lighting up the room, the crappy beer cans spiral high to the ceiling and the evil fucking Baptists are picketing Fred Rogers funeral.

If cleanliness is godliness, bacon is truth. And the truth shall make you clean. Nobody wants to smell like bacon, obviously, but in the spirit of watching The Black Table's kooky ideas gurgle, belch, and shit all over the floor, we bring you bacon soap.





After a long time cooking the bacon, you will generate a lot of orangey-brown fat, along with black bacon bits. While you may be tempted to take a sip, resist the urge -- you're gonna need to use all this fat...

...just not like this. In the world of soap-making, the best soaps come from the purist fats. And bacon clearly ain't the front-runner for cleanest fat. It's the Detroit of fats, really. In order to make a soap that's not utterly gross, you're gonna need to purify that fat by boiling it. It's really quite easy if you follow the steps below.



the fat, your house is going to smell like a short-order cook after a triple shift. With the water and fat separated, carefully pour off the water that's on top and behold the wonder that is bacon grease.




This is bacon fat. It will feel exactly how you think fat would feel if there was no such thing as skin to keep it in. It's nasty, gloppy shit that can turn brown paper bags into picture windows and in no way resembles anything resembling soap. But once you add a deadly, noxious poison whose most prized characteristic is the ability to melt hair, that fat will toughen up a bit. Remember this picture. It will be the last time you will behold bacon fat in this lovely, lovely state.



Chemistry fans take note: lye is also called caustic soda and sodium hydroxide, but most people just call it lye. You can find it in the grocery store, with the other drain cleaners, but most people only buy it to make soap now, really.


  As far as Supplies go, you're gonna need a wooden spoon and a plastic bowl. Unless you have a stainless steel bowl lying around, don't use anything metal, because it will react with the lye and the fat and it will fuck you up for life. Okay, we don't know that for sure. But we *do* know that you must use either glass or plastic, or else really bad things happen.  

Another important ingedient: COLD water. You mix powdered lye with hot water and that stuff could fizz up like Pop Rocks and blind you for life. And while making soap from bacon is a noble pursuit, it's really not anything you want to get blinded doing. So wear those rubber gloves, use cold water and eat your vegetables because there are starving people in Guam. Oh, and as a number of readers have pointed out -- use eye protection, too. A drop of lye gets in your eye and you'll lose your depth perception or go blind. That's not cool.




Sadly, you're not ready to start washing with bacon soap. The soap needs to cure, which will cause it to harden and become more brittle. The time on this varies a great deal, but you should probably allot a good two or three weeks to let your soap firm up and get more soap-esque.


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