At some point over the past couple of weeks The Dulwich Estate, the vast south London landowner with charitable status which gives 85% of its expendable money to three highly exclusive private schools, published its accounts to March 2016.

Last week I explained how the Judith Kerr school, a state primary in Herne Hill, South London, was threatened with losing its outdoor playing area in a deal which was designed to benefit three prestigious fee paying schools, Alleyn’s, Dulwich College and JAGS.

Back in February I wrote about the impact of Dulwich Estate, the huge South London landlord with charitable status, upon the neighbourhood in which I live.

Tomorrow night I bring my show about lousy restaurants, My Dining Hell, to the Corn Exchange in Newbury. I am very much looking forward to it. Tickets are available here and at the link below.

People assume that, as a restaurant critic for the The Guardian, and working on MasterChef and The One Show I spend my entire life feasting on roast swan, being pelted with truffles and hosed down with champagne. And obviously there is a quite a lot of that.

A couple of weeks ago a few hundred people gathered in Herne Hill, close to where I live, to demonstrate against the behaviour of the Dulwich Estate, a local landlord. The Estate owns 1,500 prime acres of Dulwich and the surrounding area, including the freeholds on 600 flats and maisonettes and the vast majority of the shops and pubs as well as local amenities.

Obviously food is about taste and texture. But it’s also about the language used to describe it and, more to the point, the way language is violated and trampled upon in the service of a tiresome agenda.

Being a restaurant critic teaches you to hate. Right now it’s teaching me to hate whacky serving plates. On February 23 I bring my show about appalling restaurant experiences to the Kingston Rose. 

A piece about the jazz singer Ian Shaw, and the work he is doing in the Jungle refugee camp in Calais. As it says he launches a charity single on Wednesday.

Observer’s Jay Rayner criticises Mary Portas' PR agency for 'clumsy and self-serving' use of charities

Some mistake, surely? The big, bearded bloke from MasterChef? Is he a jazz pianist too? Well, it’s true that no one would mistake Jay Rayner for Oscar Peterson, but that isn’t the point of this engagingly laid-back show.

Settle down. Get a cup of tea. I’m going to have an embittered rant about what I regard as a less than appealing attempt by some (happily small) parts of the Public Relations industry to work the charity angle in the service of their clients.

We've got to that point in the year when we start to count off the lasts. For us it's the last JR Quartet gig of 2015, back where so much of it started at the Crazy Coqs.

So, the latest Popbitch emailing has a story in which it claims that, at the launch of my new book, The Oyster House Siege, I forced guests to listen to my delicious jazz stylings.

It was the book that predicted a whole political movement, imagined a field of academic study that became a reality and inspired an internet craze.

So the 12th series of BBC Radio 4s Kitchen Cabinet starts recording again next week and as ever we need audiences.

A few years ago I received a call from one of my editors on the Observer. ‘I want you to get all your pubic hair removed,’ Nicola said.