I'm a dad to twin boys, (yes, that's basically my whole identity these days).

But before that, about five years ago, I overhauled my own health by going back to eating the way our ancestors did.

It fixed things I'd been struggling with for years, and it changed how I looked at everything else I was putting on and in my body.

Once you start pulling that thread, you can't stop. I got obsessed with finding the toxins hiding in things we're told are "good for us" — in our food, our homes, our cosmetics.

And skincare was one of the worst offenders. Ingredient lists a mile long, half of it stuff I couldn't pronounce, all of it marketed as "clean."

So I started making tallow balm in my own kitchen, using the same logic I'd applied to food: strip it back to what actually worked, before the marketing got involved.

I tried it on my mum's skin. My brother's persistent eczema. My cousin's dry patches.

It worked, every time, better than anything they'd bought.

The only problem, there was nowhere halal-certified to buy it. So I built one.