The idea to put beer in soap came from a conversation at a local brewery. The head brewer mentioned that some of their spent grain went to local farmers for animal feed. "It seems wasteful," he said, "all that good stuff." I went home with a growler of their amber ale and an experiment in mind.

Beer as a soap ingredient might sound strange, but it makes perfect sense when you understand the chemistry. The sugars in beer feed saponification, creating extra glycerin and a creamier lather. The hops contain oils that can be conditioning. The result is a soap that feels silkier than a standard recipe, with a subtle background scent that's hard to identify but undeniably pleasant.

The first critical step is degassing the beer completely. Fresh beer in a lye solution is a recipe for disaster—the carbonation causes violent bubbling that can overflow your container and create dangerous splashing. I learned this during my second attempt when a partially-degassed ale erupted in a foamy volcano of caustic disaster. Now I open beer the night before and stir it periodically, or even boil it briefly to drive off all CO2.

Different beer styles create different soaps. Stout makes darker bars with a roasted scent. Wheat beer produces lighter soap with a subtle banana note from the yeast esters. IPAs contribute hop character but can accelerate trace quickly—not for beginners. My favorite remains amber ale, which creates a warm golden bar with balanced characteristics.

Adding honey to beer soap amplifies the natural sugars, making an even creamier lather. The combination smells like a old-fashioned mead hall—honey and grain and something ancient. Men particularly love this soap, finding it masculine without being aggressive.

I've made small batches for the brewery to sell alongside their six-packs. The label says "Shower Beer" and it's become one of their bestsellers. There's something fitting about cleaning yourself with the same ingredients that make something delicious to drink.

Step-by-Step Instructions