So I got this thing. This tallow balm. The pear one. I ordered it on a whim from some Etsy shop in France because my hands were a disaster and I was tired of spending money on fancy lotions in shiny bottles that did nothing. Beef fat for your skin. Sounds weird, right? I thought so too. But my knuckles were cracking. It was bad. So I figured, why not.
Anyway. The pear tallow balm. That’s what I’m supposed to be talking about. I opened it. The first time, I was just curious. Like, what does beef fat whipped with pear even smell like? I was expecting something… gross. Or medicinal. Or just nothing.
But it wasn’t that.
How I Ended Up Putting Beef Tallow on My Face
Look, I didn’t start with my face. No way. I’m not that brave. I started with my hands. The backs of them were so dry they looked like old paper. I scooped a little out. The texture is… I don’t know. Thick but not greasy? It’s whipped, so it’s like cool butter but softer. It melts as soon as you touch it. Like, actually melts. Into your skin. Not just sits there.
I rubbed it on my hands. And the smell. That’s the thing.
It’s not a strong perfume smell. It’s not like walking into a candle store. It’s just… nice. It smells like a pear. But not a candy pear. Not a fake, sweet pear. More like if you had a really ripe pear sitting in a bowl on a wooden table in a sunny room. That’s the best I can do. It’s light. It’s fresh. It doesn’t hit you over the head. It’s just there. A soft, fruity smell that makes the whole thing feel less… clinical.
Because using a tallow balm, you kinda feel like you’re doing something old-school. Like your great-grandmother might have used something similar. The pear scent just makes it feel modern. Enjoyable. Like a treat, not a chore.
So after my hands stopped looking like a desert landscape, I got brave. My face gets weirdly dry in patches, especially around my nose. I dabbed a tiny bit on at night. After I washed my face. I was fully expecting to wake up a greaseball.
I didn’t.
What This Pear Tallow Balm Actually Does
It just sinks in. That’s the wild part. It’s made from grass-fed beef suet, whipped up. They say it mimics the oils in our own skin. Sebum. So it gets it. My skin just drank it. No shiny film. No pillowcase disaster. In the morning, my skin just felt… calm. Not tight. Not angry. Just calm.
I use it now at night. It’s the last thing I do. Brush teeth, let the dog out, put on the balm. It’s become a thing. I look forward to it. Because of the smell, honestly. That little moment of smelling something nice and simple before bed. It’s a good scent for spring. Light. Fresh. Doesn’t feel heavy or wintery.
Sometimes I put it on my elbows too. And my lips. Chapped lips? Gone. It’s weirdly good for everything. I keep the jar on my bedside table. The cat has tried to knock it off twice. He’s an agent of chaos.
I got mine from this Etsy shop, Le Petit Fermier or something like that? Made in France. The jar is simple. Nothing fancy. But it works. I’m on my second one now. I even got one for my mom because she has psoriasis on her hands and she was skeptical but now she texts me about it. “My hands don’t itch,” she said. That’s a big deal.
My Skin After a Few Weeks of This Stuff
So it’s been a few weeks. Maybe a month? I don’t keep track. But my skin is just… better. It’s not a miracle. I didn’t turn into a glowing goddess. But the dry patches are gone. The random redness I’d get? Mostly gone. My hands are actually presentable. I don’t hide them in my pockets anymore.
The pear scented tallow balm just makes it enjoyable. It doesn’t feel like medicine. It feels like a little luxury that actually works. I tried a million things before this. Expensive creams, drugstore lotions, oils in little blue bottles. Some were okay. Most were forgettable. This one I remember to use because I like using it.
That’s the whole point, I think. If you don’t like using something, you won’t use it. No matter how good it is.
Would I Buy This Natural Pear Skincare Stuff Again?
Yeah. I already did. Like I said, second jar. I’ll probably get another when this runs out. It’s just a staple now. Like toothpaste. But nicer smelling.
It’s not for everyone. If you’re weirded out by the tallow thing, I get it. I was. But it’s just a fat. A really, really good one for skin. It’s been used forever. We just forgot about it.
For me, the pear scent is key. It makes the whole experience. A natural pear skincare thing that doesn’t smell fake. It’s gentle. It’s subtle. It’s just… pleasant. In a world full of loud smells and strong chemicals, it’s a quiet little jar that works.
Anyway. My skin’s happy. I’m happy. The cat is still judging me, but he judges everything. That’s his job.
If your skin’s being difficult, or dry, or just fussy… this might be worth a shot. The pear tallow balm. It just works. I don’t know what else to say.
Quick Questions I Get Asked
Is beef tallow good for your face?
Yeah, surprisingly. It’s similar to the oils our skin makes naturally, so it absorbs really well instead of just sitting on top. It doesn’t clog my pores at all. Just sinks right in and chills everything out.
Does tallow balm clog pores?
Not in my experience. Like I said, it mimics skin sebum, so it gets absorbed. It’s not like putting cooking grease on your face. The whipped texture is light. It melts. If you have super oily skin already, maybe just use a tiny bit. But for my combo dry skin, it’s perfect.
What does the pear tallow balm smell like?
It’s hard to describe scents. It’s not a candy smell. It’s like a fresh, ripe pear. Light and fruity but not sweet. Just clean and nice. It’s not strong. It fades pretty quick after you put it on, which I like. You just get that nice little moment when you apply it.