Jean Moncrieff

Jean Moncrieff Small Giants CEO. Growing with Purpose host. Author of Finding Freedom (2026). Sharing lessons on intentional growth and values-driven leadership.

Sunday afternoon at Chardonnay Deli Kalk Bay. Beers cold enough to make “dignity” optional. Sun on your face. And the un...
01/04/2026

Sunday afternoon at Chardonnay Deli Kalk Bay. Beers cold enough to make “dignity” optional. Sun on your face. And the unofficial national anthem of a South African weekend: the boerewors roll.

This is our street-level poetry.
The Turks have köfte and kokoreç
The Americans have hotdogs and BBQ.
We’ve got boerewors — coiled, smoky, and unapologetically South African — stuffed into a soft roll and handed to you like a warm handshake from home.

And the toppings? That’s where the personality comes out.
Peppers and onions. Ketchup. Tomato sauce. Chutney.
Sweet, tangy, messy, slightly chaotic… exactly as it should be.

There’s no right way. No wrong way.
Just the way you like it — and the quiet satisfaction of knowing you’re eating something that belongs to this place.

Simple. Perfect. South African. 🇿🇦

When I’m not working or writing, you’ll usually find me in a bookstore—half lost, half hiding—sipping something strong a...
01/03/2026

When I’m not working or writing, you’ll usually find me in a bookstore—half lost, half hiding—sipping something strong and honest enough to qualify as a personality trait.

This morning I had noble plans.
A swim. A reset. Salt water therapy.

But I left it too late. The tidal pool was already a people soup—a warm, wriggling stew of elbows and enthusiasm.

Not my scene.

So I did the next best thing: grabbed a coffee and disappeared into the quiet calm of a local bookshop. No noise. No agenda. Just stories, spines, and the small luxury of time.

Sometimes that’s the whole point of a day off.

What’s your favorite way to spend one?

Mom’s been holding out on a proper fish dinner until I arrived. 😄🐟I stumbled off the plane on almost no sleep…still a li...
01/02/2026

Mom’s been holding out on a proper fish dinner until I arrived. 😄🐟

I stumbled off the plane on almost no sleep…
still a little unsure what meal of the day this even counts as…
but the moment I saw her sitting there, laughing, I felt human again.

She’ll be 82 this year. And sitting across from her sharing a meal…

I couldn’t help but think:

I hope we get many more of these dinners.

Not the big, dramatic milestones — just the ordinary, precious ones.

Because this… this is the good life.

Leaving Istanbul tonight.Or rather… the red-eye at 1:55am.I’ve loved the walks through this city — drifting with no agen...
01/01/2026

Leaving Istanbul tonight.
Or rather… the red-eye at 1:55am.

I’ve loved the walks through this city — drifting with no agenda (except the next meal), stepping into other people’s worlds for a moment.

The butchers. The bakers. The coffee roaster. The pickle and pastry makers. The nut seller.

Each of them adding something to the story. Texture. Color. Little pieces that complete the tapestry that is Istanbul.

Next visit, I’m asking names.
And writing them down.
Because places aren’t remembered by landmarks…
they’re remembered by the people who make them feel alive.

Next stop: Cape Town. 🌍✈️

Beşiktaş, Istanbul.We stopped at one of the city’s best turşu shops — tubs and jars of cabbage, carrots, beetroot, okra ...
12/31/2025

Beşiktaş, Istanbul.
We stopped at one of the city’s best turşu shops — tubs and jars of cabbage, carrots, beetroot, okra stacked like a briny rainbow.

The owner poured us his special pickle juice: spicy, salty, electric… with beet chunks and chili at the bottom.

After days of serious eating, this stuff isn’t optional — it’s medicine. Turks swear it wakes up the stomach before heavy dishes. We’ve had more than too many.

A small plastic cup of spicy pickle juice in the middle of a cold street in Beşiktaş… and suddenly you feel human again.

It’s not glamorous.
It’s not polite.
But essential.

No cornflakes here.No waffles drowned in bacon and syrup.No strawberry cream injected donuts 🍩 This is Turkish breakfast...
12/28/2025

No cornflakes here.
No waffles drowned in bacon and syrup.
No strawberry cream injected donuts 🍩

This is Turkish breakfast — and it’s not messing around.

Simit stacked high like edible halos, crusted with sesame, built for tearing with your hands.

Black olives. Wrinkled little grenades of salt and earth—briny, faintly bitter, the kind of flavor that beckons to be eaten.

The green ones, you say? No, those belong in martinis 🍸

Cucumbers that actually taste like cucumbers. Cheese in every shape and mood — soft, salty, sharp, smokey — enough to make your doctor quietly unfollow you.

And then there’s the honey — still in the comb. Not a squeeze bottle. Not a polite drizzle. This is the real thing: sticky, raw, golden… and slightly feral. Carve a slice of sticky goodness and lather it on simit, topped with feta.

Tea poured endlessly into those little tulip glasses. And somehow, even though you swear you’re just having “a bit of breakfast,” you keep reaching. Another bite. Another sip. Another piece of simit.

It’s not breakfast.
It’s a table full of small pleasures… and a reminder that in Turkey food isn’t fuel.
It’s a way of living. Every meal a celebration. An event.

The punishment comes later—
in stairs, tight jeans, and a long walk you pretend you wanted.

Turkish barber visit: ✅Non-negotiable.You don’t get a haircut…you get a full ceremonial upgrade.Before → After.Respect t...
12/27/2025

Turkish barber visit: ✅
Non-negotiable.

You don’t get a haircut…
you get a full ceremonial upgrade.

Before → After.
Respect the process. 🇹🇷✂️

The real boss of the house has arrived.Silent. Watchful. Slightly judgmental. 🐈‍⬛My role?Human furniture. ✅
12/27/2025

The real boss of the house has arrived.
Silent.
Watchful.
Slightly judgmental. 🐈‍⬛

My role?
Human furniture. ✅

The feasting has begun…Honestly, I should’ve waved the white flag after the mezze. Any reasonable person would. But Turk...
12/27/2025

The feasting has begun…

Honestly, I should’ve waved the white flag after the mezze. Any reasonable person would. But Turkey doesn’t really do “reasonable.” It does abundance. It does seduction. It does just one more plate until your willpower collapses like a cheap folding chair.

The mezzes arrive like little edible jewels—glinting, glossy, shamelessly inviting—each one daring you to pick favorites. Puffy bread lands on the table still warm, the kind you tear with your hands like you’re in on a secret. You scoop. You swipe. You swear you’re pacing yourself. You’re lying.

Then the main event: lamb chops, kebabs, smoke, char, that primal, beautiful moment when meat meets fire and everybody at the table goes quiet for a second because this is why you traveled one hour and 23 minutes in Istanbul traffic. This is why you show up.

And just when you think you’re done—when you’re absolutely sure you can’t possibly eat another bite—they bring fruit, dessert, and then Turkish coffee. Orta. A small cup. Big attitude. The kind of coffee that doesn’t ask permission. It just shows up, strong and dark, like it’s about to tell you the truth about yourself. Ah yes, I’ll have another one of those please.

My favorite mezze so far? Atom.

It’s a trap. A fiery, delicious one.

Dried cayenne peppers sautéed in butter first—like someone decided to weaponize flavor—then poured over a bed of garlic-infused strained yogurt. Hot meets cool. Fire meets mercy. It’s super spicy, borderline irresponsible… and once you’ve tasted it, you’ll spend the rest of your life quietly comparing everything else to it.

Turkey doesn’t feed you.

It tests you.

And you fail gladly

Do we get smarter… more enlightened… as we travel?Does travel bring wisdom?My first holiday read is Anthony Bourdain’s W...
12/26/2025

Do we get smarter… more enlightened… as we travel?
Does travel bring wisdom?

My first holiday read is Anthony Bourdain’s World Travel: An Irreverent Guide — and it’s already got me thinking.

I feel incredibly fortunate to travel as much as I do, and to have immersed myself in so many different cultures. And I’ve come to believe this:

Travel can bring wisdom — but only when we approach the places we visit with real curiosity. When we slow down, open ourselves up, and step into local culture rather than observing it from a distance.

That’s why I see travel as a key part of education… and raising kids. I’m grateful my children have traveled and lived in different countries. Those experiences shape you. They change the way you see the world — and the way you see other people.

And in a polarized world, where tolerance sometimes feels in short supply, travel can be one of the best teachers.

It brings perspective.
It builds kindness.
It teaches patience — and the ability to listen and learn from others.

Wise words from Bourdain.

Next stop Christmas in Istanbul! Rakı, balık and mezze for a week 😋
12/25/2025

Next stop Christmas in Istanbul!

Rakı, balık and mezze for a week 😋

Final touches on the manuscript today.Surrounded by 33,000 thousand books filled with voices from the past — thinkers, b...
12/20/2025

Final touches on the manuscript today.

Surrounded by 33,000 thousand books filled with voices from the past — thinkers, builders, philosophers, rebels — all reminding me of one thing:

None of this work happens in isolation.

Every idea stands on the shoulders of others.
Every chapter is a conversation with remarkable entrepreneurs.
Every business worth building is shaped by what we choose to carry forward.

This book has never been about business alone.

It’s about freedom, intention, and building something impactful in the world.

Grateful for quiet spaces like this.
And for communities that value depth over noise.

Back to the words. 📖✍️

- Jean

Address

Charlotte, NC

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Jean Moncrieff posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to Jean Moncrieff:

Shortcuts

Share

Category