Oatmeal sloshes out of pots and into stovetop flames as contestants frantically fumble with their finishing touches. The timer is ticking down but spectators clap and cheer, their whoops ringing through the rafters of Pearl Beach memorial community hall before a voice cuts through the chaos: “please make way for the porridge carriers”.

The five cooks step back, glance at each other’s mess, and hope they’ve done enough.

This is the first heat of Australia’s inaugural porridge-making championship.

For 32 years, Carrbridge in Scotland – approximately 17,000km away – has been home to the world porridge-making championship, called the Golden Spurtle.

But the competition has received renewed international attention thanks in part to the 2025 documentary The Golden Spurtle, directed by Australian Constantine Costi, which follows a cast of eccentric yet passionate competitors at the 2023 contest.

While watching the film, Pearl Beach local Mark Gibbins noticed similarities between his hamlet on the NSW central coast and the Scottish town. After a wine-heavy dinner with friends, the Australian competition was born.

“I didn’t think anyone would turn up,” Gibbins says on competition day on Saturday, as he scans the packed hall.

Audience tickets sold out almost two weeks before the event, with some spectators making the two-hour drive from Sydney, while merchandise like shirts and spurtles were wiped before midday.

Named after its seaside location and the specialty implement used to stir oatmeal, the Pearly Spurtle is a celebration of all things Scottish and porridge.

There are 15 competitors vying for the title of Australia’s first porridge champion. They are split into three heats, to compete five at a time.

Modelled after the Golden Spurtle, competitors are given 30 minutes during each heat to cook a litre of traditional porridge, made solely from untreated oats, water and salt – rolled oats and milk are strictly prohibited – and a “creative” porridge, where they can show their flair by making almost any dish that includes oatmeal or oat flour as a key ingredient.

The dishes are blind-tasted by three judges – judge Caroline Velik, who competed in last year’s Golden Spurtle, says she wants a traditional porridge that is thoroughly cooked without being gluggy, and seasoned with “a good amount of salt, but not too much”. The top five contestants then compete in a 30-minute final, where they must make the traditional porridge again.

Whoever reigns supreme will be flown to Scotland to represent Australia at the Golden Spurtle in October.

Though most competitors come from Pearl Beach and can point out their houses from the memorial hall, some have flown from as far as Melbourne to compete.

Semi-retired teacher Paul Woods now lives in Sydney, but he grew up in England, where his father would make porridge for him every winter.

While he’s made porridge for his wife, kids and grandchild, the Pearly Spurtle is a completely different arena.

“I’m a bit nervous,” he says.

“I haven’t really got a competitive bone in my body, and I’m not very sporty.”

All three generations of his family are in the audience holding up hastily made posters proclaiming “pappou’s porridge is so nice, you have it twice”.

But for local Phil Scarf, competition is the name of the game, and there is no one he wants to beat more than his adult daughter, Liz.

“He signed us both up,” she says. “This is just one instance in 36 years of us taking very wholesome family activities and ruining them by making them competitive – that is what we do best.”

Ahead of her heat, Rachel Visontay is feeling apprehensive about her creative porridge. She’s discovered two other contestants’ recipes, like hers, feature figs. “That’s shaken me,” she says.

At the Pearly Spurtle opening ceremony, the City of Gosford pipe band, dressed in tartan and knee-high socks, blasts a bagpipe rendition of Waltzing Matilda as competitors, organisers and kilt-wearers of all ages join a parade around the Pearl Beach community hall.

As the heats begin, the crowd quickly files inside.

Some contestants have trained for weeks, but Sam Vincent is widely considered the one to beat.

Hailing from London, Vincent is a recipe developer for MasterChef Australia and The Great Australian Bake Off, and when the MC reveals his credentials , the audience let out a collective “oooh” and flock towards his station.

But his path to the competition has been fraught after he was forced to pay an $85 luggage check-in fee for his overweight bag of oats.

“They overcharged me big time, so I thought, ‘I’ll show you’,” he says.

During the heat, Vincent frantically hand whips cream, rolls out coconut-and-oat-infused brittle and tosses caramelised pineapples, while tasting every component on the back of his hand. With seconds to spare, he adds a tiny umbrella and a cherry to finish off his pina colada porridge.

A few burners away, former cafe owner Robert Reid is sieving his porridge over a ricotta cannoli filling for his specialty dish. His kilt-clad family whisper with concern as he lifts a patch of burnt tuile from the pan.

After handing in his entry, screenwriter John Collee has the horrifying revelation that he is missing a third of his dish.

“I forgot the salt in the traditional,” he says.

Hours later, after all three heats have concluded, the judges announce the finalists: Visontay, Reid, Vincent, Phil Scarf, and beloved local Muriel Petersen.

They have an hour to prepare for the next stage as Velik entertains the audience with a demonstration of the porridge jaffle that won her the 2025 Golden Spurtle specialty dish category.

But before long, the finals begin and a hush descends over the hall.

Petersen exudes confidence, stirring her porridge one-handed without holding on to the pot handle.

Scarf tells the audience he stirs anti-clockwise every few strokes, contrary to Scottish folklore which advises porridge makers only stir clockwise lest they let the devil into their oats.

Most contestants finish well before the deadline, with Reid worrying the extra time may have led him to overthink his technique.

But Vincent, who spends most of the heat waiting for his oats to cook and joining other contestants in sampling each other’s porridge, pushes it to the last second.

After the final bell rings, the judges head to their porridge conclave to convene.

They emerge 20 minutes later to announce the results. Despite Visontay’s concerns , her creative entry takes out the category’s $500 cash prize, which she says she will spend on more figs.

The traditional heat was much tighter, the judges say, but Reid, with his specialty mix of regular salt and Celtic sea salt, wins the award.

The overall winner of the Pearly Spurtle was also a close call.

But Reid emerges as Australia’s first national porridge champion, booking himself a spot at the world championships.

The judges present him with a mounted spurtle, which he holds over his head as the crowd race over to offer their congratulations.

“We were meant to do a family road trip up the east coast of Australia for all of October, but I guess we’ll go to Scotland instead,” he says.

As organisers pack up banners and trestle tables, they begin discussing plans for next year’s Pearly Spurtle, and float a two-day competition, given the immense popularity of the inaugural event.

“We’re living in this complicated world with complicated things happening,” Gibbins says.

“But this has just resonated with a lot of people who have bought into the simplicity and retro aspects of the humble oat.”