Olive Oil Soap

One of my best purchases ever was the pure olive oil soap at the market in Aix-en-Provence. Despite the impatience of the tall, thin man shifting his weight from leg to leg behind the table, I hesitated among the dozens of colorful, aromatic soaps (of course without touching them and thereby eliciting a scolding). Then, there it was - the most pure, unscented, lovely green olive oil treasure.

Yes, olive oil is rich in vitamin E and makes an excellent moisturizer and is gentle on your skin but that's only part of the story. You probably figured out by now that I have a soft spot in my heart for things done in the traditional manner, by hand and with a long history. Olive oil soap has been around for a thousand years - why, just wash your face with it and you may catch a resonant glimmer in the mirror of the thousands, maybe millions of soap users from the murky (yet clean) past.

The vendor brusquely packaged the soaps as though scrambling to satisfy long lines of customers. Of course, it was just me and my sister at his stand.

At home I conserved my soaps carefully, making sure they never melted in a pool of bath water. Pure olive oil soap is rare here, and mighty expensive if you do find it. Still, only one bar left - and Aix so far from California.

Then, last week, making my way through the International Food Bazaar's narrow aisles, hunting for Pimenton de la Vera, I saw familiar green bars crowded next to the natural henna. The bag matter of factly announced its contents - Natural Green Olive Oil Soap. (Obviously from a place untouched by marketing hype.) And it's a bargain. It's made by Said Saifan Est., a company that has been making soap since 1939 with hand-picked olives from the Koura valley in Lebanon. Their ancient process is described here.

I'm happy to tell you that it's just as pure and sweet as Savon de Marseille.

Find it at the International Food Bazaar, 2052 Curtner, San Jose.