Was it a gamble? Could I trust the Queen of Cookery to do the right thing by my Anzac biscuits, or would she be tempted to let them go limp and lose the snap we believed necessary in an A and P show prize-winner?
Since the QC had 19 cooking entries to prepare, as well as complete floral arrangements and titivate produce from her garden, it would be understandable if something went awry.
I knew she wouldn't pass them off as hers. She had never approved of walnuts in my Anzacs (a la Aunt Daisy). She wouldn't be seen dead associating with such a departure from the Edmonds recipe.
Would she deliberately choose to enter the most misshapen of my liquorice choc balls (left over from our Waitangi weekend family gathering) in the uncooked slice section of the Murchison show?
I could understand her being less than enthusiastic about my rhubarb and raspberry cordial, even if she wasn't entering the beverages category. I'd attempted to change her kitchen decor with my entry, adorning her boring white stove top with the boiled-over bright red and sticky liquid as I worked to rid the cordial of mysterious cloudiness.
Was tender care of my three paltry in-absentia show offerings really in her own best interest?
After all, this was the year she was hoping to win the McNees Ltd cup for most points in cooking, having been pipped at the post by a friend in 2011.
But if there were any shenanigans with my entries, who would be there to stand up for me, coughing up the 50 bucks required for an official protest if necessary?
I couldn't rely on the other Murchison-dwelling sister, the Earthquake Baby. She reckoned she was too tied up with horse events to even whip up a batch of competition scones. I would provide no threat there, happy to revel in last year's astonishing win, trying to forget it took me three batches to produce three scones which looked vaguely alike.
Forgive me if I sound little suspicious of my beloved siblings. Trust issues have been preying on my mind after reading an academic paper by Drs Ian McAndrew, of the University of Otago, and Martin Risak, of the University of Vienna, on the debacle of The Hobbit employment law change in 2010.
The paper, wonderfully titled " Shakedown in the Shaky Isles: Union Bashing in New Zealand", was recently published in the Labour Studies Journal.
It describes the story behind the law change as reading "like a multiscene play on how a powerful American entertainment-industry conglomerate was able to take advantage of a union's strategic missteps to pressure a small country into not only substantial tax breaks and subsidies, but also a fundamental change to its employment laws".
None of the New Zealand players in this cringe-making saga comes out well.
The paper raises again the question of how the Government and Peter Jackson chose to portray events. It says Gerry Brownlee "continued to misrepresent the situation, casting the union as the villain, including in a statement to Parliament on October 26" when his office had been expressly advised by Jackson on October 18 Warner Bros executives were unconcerned about the union action and focused on the 2005 Bryson case, which involved individual rights under law.
Mr Brownlee, contacted last week for comment on these claims, made this email statement:
"The article you refer to is an interpretation of documents released under the Official Information Act without context. The producers were always concerned about the Bryson case. The boycott was related, as it sought to enforce collective bargaining - which was illegal under the Commerce Act. The Bryson case had cast doubt on whether contractors could be deemed employees. Despite the removal of the blacklist/boycott there was still the threat of continued industrial action on set."
Really?
Would it have been too much to hope that if we couldn't trust a National-led Government to see workplace rights as non-negotiable human rights, and the union and media not to make a pig's ear of this event, that opposition politicians at least might have been trusted to enthusiastically keep this issue alive in an election year, perhaps doing some close questioning in Parliament over OIA released documents?
If they tried, I don't recall hearing about it.
The QC, who now has the silverware to go with the title, did not betray my trust. My walnut-laden Anzacs took second place and hers third, the liquorice balls won (her offering third) and my rhubarb and raspberry cordial scored a first and a special prize.
I only wish I had enough of the cordial to send to every MP.
They could copy its clarity and use its name as a subtle reminder not to talk rubbish, while its tartness could put hairs on anyone's chest.
- Elspeth McLean is a Dunedin writer.