The Journey of a Boring® Oat

A visual diary by Hannah,
Boring® Brand Manager

Our New Zealand oats live their whole life here, never leaving. In fact, they’ve never even been on holiday. Their passport probably lives down the back of the couch.

While their neighbours are off on a European vacay, these South Island oats are packing their bags for the North. North Island, that is.

I was recently overheard bemoaning the fact I had never once been to Gore, nor tried a cheese roll, so the team booked me on a flight and I was heading South the following week. The purpose of the trip was to do both of these things and follow some of our New Zealand oats on their trip North.

Packed and South-bound with my precious cargo.

My morning of firsts started with a Boring® flat white in Balclutha. First time in Balclutha, not my first Boring® flat white, that is.

The first official stop on the oat tour of Aotearoa was in Waiwera South, at the farm of one of the (many) skilled farmers who grow the oats we use in Boring®. This is Craig, third generation grower and absolute legend.

Inspected a handful of oats up close. A few more of these and we should be good.

Inspected an even bigger handful from a distance. Considered diving into them but weighed up the pros versus the (itchy) cons and decided against.

Quick alpaca break at Craig’s.

On the road again and heading North with our oats. I’ve been told that no Southland trip is complete without a stopoff at Graham’s place. He’s the oat growing wizard of the south (and north), I stopped in for a stroll in one of his fields and to check out how his supply is looking. Pretty good I reckon. Check out the golden mound of the good stuff!

Bumped into this friendly farmer on my way out. What are the chances?

Bid farewell to Graham and started the trip North to Harraways, via Gore. I took the scenic route for the cheese roll, which I proceeded to eat too quickly which is why you’re getting this picture of a trout.

Made it to Dunedin with our oats. I left them in Harraways’ capable hands for a few hours for their milling. (Harraways have been milling oats for over 150 years.)

Nabbed a few porridge sachets for the road and bid farewell to Harraways, continuing North to The Hawke’s Bay.

Arrived and immediately scolded for calling it The Hawke’s Bay. I dropped the oats off at the pre-processor for their treatments. Their transformative journey really kicks into gear here when the enzymes are added, starch in the oats is broken down and natural sugars are released. This is the top secret bit so we’ll leave you in a shroud of mystery.

Our oats txt to say they’re ready to be picked up. I almost drive straight past them, they’re unrecognisable in their new form. They look like watery porridge (in a good way). They’re tipped into a milk tanker and we’re off down the road to their final destination. Once inside the plant they’re ready for their next round of treatments. Water into wine? Try porridge into oat milk. The remaining ingredients are added to what is now looking a lot like oat milk, before that then gets heat-treated to give it a longer shelf life. It’s then put through a homogeniser which is basically a fine mesh sieve. This all happens inside here.

The bottles are blown into shape on the line to make sure the product is safe and super sterile. This is what they start out as. What a trip.

Once the bottles are back to an acceptable for supermarket size, they’re filled with the good stuff. Here it is going into each bottle before its cap goes on.

Look at these cuties. Filled up and ready for their sleeves.

Sleeves on and off they go to their cartons.

And here we are. In cartons and ready to hit the road to wherever their final destination may be. Is it Palmerston North? Could be Motueka. Possibly even right back down to Gore.

Or in this case its destiny is this.