I had this glass shaker you see usually filled with red pepper flakes in the italian pizza joints. I have no idea where it came from, but one day I found it while rummaging around the umpteen-million plastic tubs full of near-useless brac-a-brac occupying a large percentage of our garage. That thing worked very well, and I used an old roasting pan I found at the dump to catch the fallen wayside of PCB goodness.
One day, Captain Nemo (dog) came into the shop and as I jigged to the side to avoid his gargantuan black mass, my ample bottom had bumped the rickety Craftsman workbench (my beloved brother's going-away present) housing my Paragon furnace, Krups toaster oven, and other miscellaneous HT parahernalia, and dashe dit to the hard concrete floor - smashing it into tiny grey powdery glassy fragments.
My chagrin to the loss of said glass shaker was beyond measure. Lo, though it were glass, the holes in the silvery chromed cap were deemed to be, "just right" therefore pretty darn good for the dispensing of the aforementioned PBC powdered greyness. I was inconsolable.
Then did my weary eyes behold Linda, wife of marriage, and love of my life! She did appear to me as holding from yon grocery store kitchen section a vessel that appeared to be all shiny as if in a dream, nay, as if to be entirely stainless steel! It were as such a giant stainless steel salt shaker the likes of which my lowly country arse has not encountered on this weary globe. The holes, though a wee small, were so plentiful that the PCB were to dispense from them as such woudl be a storm of sand in the desert!
I took this vessel, and filled within its confines the sacred PCB, and catching the fallen remains in a roasting vessel, all was good and well with the world.
And we slept, for the knowing that mine steel was scale-free was comforting to my soul. :thumbup: