While I’m shopping around in Strasbourg for a new go-to café, I’ve found myself reminiscing about my favorite café to read in Paris. Though it was only five minutes walking from my flat, I’m not sure I would have found it on my own. It’s very easy to miss.
Sandwiched between a to-go pizza and kebab joint and a hair salon specializing in weaves, Blackburn Coffee is easily overlooked. It has a faded black façade and totally unassuming exterior and the inside isn’t anything to write home about. Yet, there’s something about it.
Best described as funky-contemporary with a rustic spin, the interior boasts a glass display box featuring such goodies as homemade carrot cake, banana bread, and chocolate chip cookies. Set beside a thick wooden bar for ordering, the aesthetics are balanced by a large blackboard featuring the menu items.
Perhaps the best-kept secret of this coffee shop is the coffee itself. Slightly on the pricey side for the neighborhood, the specialty product is exquisite and consistently made with a well-trained barista touch. It’s the kind of coffee you inhale first before you drink, cupping between your hands and staring into the milky whorls as if undergoing a willing hypnosis.
(If you need further testimony, I brought my native Melbourne, Australia friend there when she visited and even she raved about it. )
But as everyone knows, the true test of a quality café is whether or not you can get any reading done in it.
Some are too noisy, with other patrons constantly diverting your attention with their antics or hushed conversations, where you always catch the most interesting sounding snippets. Some are cookie-cutter and lifeless, rendering the would-be-reader catatonic on their Instagram feed while their book lies in the dark depths of their bag. But occasionally, one is just right: populated with interesting (well-dressed, of course—this is Paris!) characters who chat animatedly among themselves, but in low tones. Their voices don’t carry and a mixed genre soundtrack designed for the background plays on a loop.
Somehow, it manages to follow the ebb and flow of the timeless space that is a café.
I discovered the American Library in Paris halfway through my year of living in the City of Lights. Rapidly thereafter, Blackburn became the place where I could properly escape into the worlds of my books. Reading has always been something that I loved, but gaining access to a library full of the latest releases was a game changer. Also, Blackburn didn’t mind if I tucked myself into a corner for hours with only an empty coffee cup beside me.
All right, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t indulge many a time in Blackburn’s incredible food.
Though a small selection, I would assert that someone with no food allergies could simply point to something on their menu without knowing what they were ordering. I guarantee the result makes taste buds sing every time.
So, there you have it. My absolute favorite café to read in Paris, one that I miss dearly even as I fall more in love with my new city and learn more about the French language every day. Fortunately, nostalgia in the fall swirls pleasantly, and feels not unlike watching leaves chase each other in the wind.
