My mother, Susan, started tinkering with the strange chemistry of cold-processed soapmaking in her basement in 1997. The first few batches were born in old shoeboxes. She roped in my father, Pentti, and soon, a small soapmaking factory was formed. Today, each batch of 88 bars is hand measured, poured, and cut by my parents. It’s sold here and at other nice stores around the world.