In the sunlit shop windows of Marseille, it’s difficult to miss the great cubes of olive-toned soap, stacked up like pyramids, their surfaces chalky with salt bloom. Imprinted into each one is a stamp with bold letters arranged in a circle or square denoting the maker’s name, the ingredients and the city. To most, it’s just soap. But Savon de Marseille is far more than that.
For centuries, this almost comically large block has been made in the same way, using local olive oil, sea water from the Mediterranean, and alkaline ash from local sea plants. The process is slow, cooked for 10 days in a cauldron before being poured into wooden frames, hand-cut, and left to dry for weeks until ready to sell.
The methods can be traced back to the 14thcentury when the first soap makers were believed to establish using methods linked to Syria’s Ghar soap (the world’s oldest hard soap) in Aleppo. The industry flourished, and in 1688, Louis XIV issued the Edict of Colbert, a royal decree that set out a set of regulations by minister, Jean-Baptiste Colbert. The decree (which was to be stamped on every cube like a hallmark) mandated that only soap made in Marseille using olive oil and soda ash could be called "Savon de Marseille".
The tradition almost disappeared with the industrial revolution and the rise of cheaper soaps and synthetic perfumes threatened to kill off the muted, briny smell of real Marseille soap. But a few family-run savonneries held on, saving an industry that had become one of the country’s major exports in the 18th Century. Today, places like Savonnerie Marius Fabre (established in 1900) and Fer à Cheval (established 1856) still fire their cauldrons, weigh the mixture by hand, and sink in the same Edict of Colbert.
Each cube is slightly different. The colour depends on the oil and the stamp might be crisp or fading, deep-set or worn. You might find them in neat stacks in Provençal pharmacies, or half-melted by a fisherman’s sink, or tied with twine in hotels like Le Petit Nice on the waterfront.
There’s something devotional about the way locals use it, for everything from laundry, and washing babies to cleaning paintbrushes. It’s believed to ease eczema, remove wine stains and heal emotional strain. The scent is unconventional, lacking any of the sweeter, floral aromas that the world has come to know, but these great green blocks are far fresher, made with natural ingredients that the modern day equivalent lacks.
To see the real thing made, visit Savonnerie Fer à Cheval, which still uses its original cauldrons. Marius Fabre, based nearby in Salon-de-Provence, also welcomes visitors into its century-old workshop and museum. In the Panier district, Savonnerie de la Licorne gives smaller, more tourist-friendly demonstrations where you can stamp your own bar (alongside the decree of course). All three remain fiercely proud guardians of Marseille’s tradition.