With Panchito diverted to delusions of relevance, even the most codependent readers are probably turning more and more to alternative routes to restaurants on the series of tubes. And my advice would be to babble in fusionspeak: Caveat diner. My e-pals have so far been unanimous on a new place I would otherwise have tried in my underserved neighborhood, and it looks as if Menupages is underwhelmed as well (sample comments from both: “Manage [sic] of restaurant seems chaotic,” “Awful and expensive,” “Hope it lasts,” “WIGB? Not even on someone else’s tab”). No wonder the joint already has graffiti in its windows. But much more telling was what happened when I emailed a new friend who has gluten issues about a place that was being flogged almost to a Ko-level frenzy on the blogs. The day after she emailed back to say she had gone there before I even mentioned it, only to find it had only pasta and no pizza, one of the big boys reported it was . . . serving pizza. Even as a kid, I knew you can’t eat candy every day without sacrificing brain cells. Change that alert to Daily Cretin.