'There's a glint in their eye': What it takes to produce the world's best porridge

SBS Australia

2 days ago

Tucked in the Scottish Highlands is Carrbridge, a town most wouldn't even know exists if not for its strange claim to fame: the World Porridge Making Championship There's no prize money. Just a golden trophy shaped like a spurtle — a traditional Scottish utensil for stirring oats — and the glory of being crowned the world's best porridge maker. Sydney-based taco chef Toby Wilson was researching obscure food competitions when he came across The Golden Spurtle. He'd already found a roadkill cooking contest in West Virginia, United States, a fondue championship, and even one for testicles. But it was a quiet moment with a bowl of oats that inspired him to search for a porridge-making competition — and eventually, to fly to Carrbridge to compete. "They say the population is 700, but it feels like you only see 30 of them," Wilson tells SBS News.
"I like to collect strange experiences," he says. "I'm a collector of these big fish, small pond experiences. I thought it would be fun to say I'm the World Porridge Champion."
Sydneysider taco chef Toby Wilson made the trip to Carrbridge and cooked in the competition twice. On his first go, he claims he came second. Source: Supplied The first time he competed, Wilson placed in the top six. Or possibly second, depending on who you ask. "I was told I came second, but I couldn't verify that. But I'm just going to assume that I did." A year later, he returned to compete again. This time, he brought Melbourne-based writer and director Constantine Costi — who was making his first film — to help document the community that had unexpectedly charmed him.
That film, The Golden Spurtle, has since sold out at major Copenhagen documentary film festival, CPH:DOX, Sydney Film Festival, and now this month's Melbourne International Film Festival.
Porridge people Porridge, admittedly, is not the most exciting of foods. It's just three ingredients — oats, water and a dash of salt.
But in the town of Carrbridge — located in Scotland's north-east and just an hour's drive from the British royal family residence Balmoral Castle — it represents much more.
It's funny because it's such a boring dish, but all the people are so fascinating. "One of the previous winners has it tattooed on his arm," Wilson says. The competition draws an eclectic crowd. Among them: Adam Kiani, a fungus and mycology research coordinator; Nick Barnard, a wellness CEO determined to win; and reigning world champion Lisa Williams, whom Wilson was "weirdly starstruck" by.
"There were people I'd read about who had won previous years … they're like porridge icons," he says.
When it comes to the judging criteria, one judge, Neil Mugg, says good taste, colour, and texture are key. But everyone has their own technique. Some competitors wait for a gluggy bubble to guide them. Others, like Williams, trust sound. Wilson says he used to be an avid stirrer, but now lets the oats "do their thing". He says there's a superstition that you must stir clockwise to keep evil spirits at bay (and he does this, just in case).
"I'm a chef by trade, so I feel like I need to be good at this," he says.
'You don't get that in Marrickville' For Wilson, the experience turned out to be more than just a quirky travel tale. "There were two big things I took from it," he says. "The first was how much focus I could put into mastering a simple dish. The second was the community." Wilson, who lives in Sydney's inner-west suburb of Marrickville — dubbed the second-coolest neighbourhood in Australia by Time Out in 2022 — says it was nice to be part of a small community where everyone knows and looks after each other. "Their differences didn't matter so much," he says. "I don't even know my next-door neighbours at home, and you're in this town, and everyone remembered me. "You don't get that in Marrickville." While many of Carrbridge's residents are older, he says the generation gap didn't seem to matter.
"I'd be sitting between a 50-year-old and a 70-year-old, and literally the only thing we had in common was that we cook oats."
We're the kind of people who see something like the World Porridge Making Championship and say, f--k it, that sounds fun. Aesthetically, The Golden Spurtle looks like it's been plucked from a BBC archive or that it's playing on an analogue television. Cinematographer Dimitri Zaunders opts for slow pans, colour and symmetry, dousing the film in Wes Anderson-esque petroleum. The documentary reflects that spirit. It's gentle, slightly absurd, and warm. Director and writer Costi — who has a background in opera — says porridge is simply a "Trojan horse" to tell the stories of the beautiful people in the Carrbridge community. "The hook for me was: how could something so seemingly basic on the palette be even vaguely interesting?" Costi says. The answer was in the people.
There's Barbara, the head dishwasher of 25 years; Chris Price, the railway man who makes porridge "the Scottish way, with water"; the Porridge Committee; a pack of proud dishladies; and Neal Robertson, the aforementioned tattooed former world champion.
Neal Robertson is a two-time winner of the Golden Spurtle World Porridge Making Championship. He even got a tattoo to mark the occasion. Source: Supplied We also see Roger Reed, who founded the competition in 1994 and helped put Carrbridge on the map. He even has a street in the town named after him. "I was looking for an idea to promote the village," Reed says in the film. "And it came to me — porridge, the epitome of Scottish food. Can you make a competition out of making porridge?" While they're all different, there are a few common denominators of the Carrbridge population: they're naturally witty, they mostly have grey hair, and they're very serious about their porridge. "The joy of it was really getting to know a whole bunch of older people and developing a relationship with strangers over a certain age," Costi says.
"There's a glint in their eye. They're all in on the joke."
'What would you do with your final years?' At the centre of this is Charlie Miller — porridge maker, spurtle carver, and longtime chieftain of the competition. As his health declines, Miller wrestles with who will take over his role. Costi thought this might become the emotional spine of the film. But before filming began, Miller casually revealed he'd already found a replacement.
"It's just Alan down the road," he told Costi.
The documentary follows Charlie Miller's last year as chieftain of the competition. Soon, it transforms into a meditation on ageing, legacy and purpose. Source: Supplied Instead, the film transforms into a meditation on ageing, legacy and purpose. "On the surface, it's light and it's comedic and bubbly and kind of joyful. But there is a more poignant undercurrent through the whole thing, particularly with Charlie, who's not in the best of health," Costi says. But even as he wrestles with hanging up his metaphorical apron, Miller still drops wisdom in every scene, with lines that feel like they were plucked straight from a Dylan Thomas poem. The film opens on a montage of Carrbridge landmarks: a rocky bridge, the railway station, the pub — and the cemetery. "Everyone ends up here," Miller says, as he looks over the tombstones. The Scottish Highlands are ageing faster than the rest of the country. But in Carrbridge, that's not positioned as a problem — it's part of the charm.
You notice it in the rhythm of the town, the cheeky banter of the committee, and in the slow beauty of the film itself. There's something particularly comforting about a place where older people aren't just visible, but central — running competitions, carving spurtles, washing dishes, stirring oats.
As the proportion of people aged 60 years and older increases worldwide, the United Nations is promoting the need for "age-friendly communities" that optimise opportunities for health, participation and security, to enhance people's quality of life as they get older.
In Carrbridge, the porridge competition may be playing a crucial role in building this sense of community. And while Miller is stepping down, the committee asks him to stay on as honorary chieftain — complete with a new hat and all.
There is a deeply human story underneath all of this that we all have to face at one point, which is — what do I do with my final years? Constantine Costi, director of The Golden Spurtle "Is something as absurd as a porridge-making competition a worthy thing to do? I would say it absolutely is," Costi says. Wilson agrees — though he says he's probably done competing. "I think making it an annual tradition — at what point does that get a bit weird? It's like, how much do you want to win this porridge award, dude?" he says. Still, he got a glimpse of what those later years might look like. "I'm a keen, but terrible amateur golfer and Scotland's the home of golf. "So for a few days [while making the film], I would just make porridge and play golf. "It felt like a little sneak peek of my later years — cooking porridge and playing golf in a seaside village in Scotland." The Golden Spurtle is being shown as part of the Melbourne International Film Festival, which is running until 24 August. The film is also slated for a general Australian release later this year.