Culinary rifts in the space-time continuum

The human had been muttering for some time about something called a kitchen clickalong, which I'd been praying would be something reasonably innocuous, like snapping one's fingers in time to the exhaust fan while watching the toast burn. No such luck I'm afraid -- it turns out to be something resembling a parody of/improvement on obnoxious real-time TV recipe shows, with the added interest of being able to receive instructions and ask questions in real time via a blog.

Never one to make life simple when it could be complicated, the human wanted to follow a clickalong based rather a long way away, giving the options of making provençal fish stew for breakfast, or missing the point entirely by following live instructions after the event. Then struck an even better idea: take the list of ingredients distributed beforehand, harass the patient staff of the local pescatory emporium for a sea bass equivalent, and assemble them by elimination to produce something resembling dinner.

Voilà: Not identical to the official version but not too far off it; and we've ended up with a ponus potful of seafood stock fur future projects. So there. The sauce didn't emulsify as well as it could have, but was great fun pounding it!

On somewhat inconvenient aesthetic developments relating to well-intentioned implement substitution

This is not the first time that the jiggler siphon has been mentioned in these chronicles, nor in all likelihood will it be the last. However I must report that the human seems to be both pleased and slightly vexed with his latest escapade, resulting from an attempt to transfer nutrient-rich yeast sediment from a patent glass fermentation vessel onto a garden bed that continues to produce both fruiting and tuberous solanaceae well out of season.
Despite its alleged status as a supercooled liquid, glass is generally known to be brittle. What is less well-known is that over-enthusiastic siphon-priming can cause an almost perfectly circular section of fermentation vessel to detach itself, resulting in somewhat faster than planned egress of said intended fertiliser.
Aside from the obvious application of such an unintended carburation port (obvious, that is, to a being larger than either myself or the human), can anybody suggest either a new use or a means of returning this vessel to its zymurgic destiny?

Dogfatherly advice

As you get older, Steve, it's always best to remember where you came from. Hopefully the following will help.

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Futurist Cooking Lives!

Who's hungry now?

Arr!

Primus inter pares

I'm not sure about the appellation "First Dog," but I'm glad to see the ranks of well-behaved junior hounds swelling by the day! Do you approve, Pudding? Speaking of which, I really must remind the human to get on with the job of handling Steve's correspondence with the White House...