I’m not sure if it’s a back-to-school thing, or a weather-getting-cooler thing, or a need-more-dietary-fibre thing, but lately I’ve been drawn to oatmeal. And none of this flaky rolled-oats business, either. I’m talking Scotch oats, aka: steel-cut oats, aka: a thousand other names).
This morning it was bothering me that I couldn’t remember the name of the special stirring tool that some purists — like my mother — use when making oatmeal. It was mostly bothering me because I knew it was a word that sounded vaguely dirty, and I almost *never* forget those words.
Turns out the word I was looking for is “spurtle,” whose Wikipedia entry brought to my attention this neat event: The Golden Spurtle™ World Porridge Making Championship.
I love simple food, and I love those who celebrate it. Wish I could be there!
I’m also a fan of this much-maligned breakfast dish, so thanks for giving it some profile. I’m shocked, however, to learn that the elongated wooden spoon I’ve been calling a spurtle is not, in fact, a spurtle! A shopping trip is in order.
According to Google, it looks like there are a fair number of spurtle-makers in Nova Scotia (makes sense!). I also just noticed that last year’s event had a Canadian competitor whose dish was “porridge brulee with cranberries and Maple syrup.” I think my own shopping trip for a kitchen torch is in order!