Is this the BEST Cinnamon Roll & Coffee in Paris?
Autumn in Paris turns simple cravings into rituals, transforms morning walks into treasure hunts for perfect pastries.
Let me tell you how this started, because it captures something essential about how we're living here, something I want to remember long after this particular October has passed.
The Walking Ritual That Changed
The girls and I have developed this morning rhythm and walk routine - Simple, meditative, one of those habits that makes you feel rooted in a place. But then I discovered a new space, just briefly off our path, that turned out to be a complete relevation… I found Motor's — this converted travel agency space tucked between Les Halles and Rivoli, about halfway between Notre Dame and the Louvre. A block and a half from our usual river path. How had we missed it?
The first time we went, there was a line out the door. But here's what made me stay: the people waiting weren't on their phones. They weren't taking photos. They were just... waiting. For coffee. That kind of quiet dedication to something tells you everything you need to know.
What I Found Inside
The space itself could have been lifted from Brooklyn circa 2012 — exposed brick, corrugated iron, neon lights — which should feel derivative but somehow doesn't. Maybe because the team makes it warm. They've got water bowls for dogs. They chat with everyone like they belong there, whether you're ordering a simple flat white or discussing extraction methods with obvious expertise.
The inside seats maybe eight people. Maybe. The outside terrace has more space, but we're in October now, and Paris in October means you're gambling with weather every morning. Most days we take everything to go, find a bench by the river or in Place Dauphine. This has become its own kind of pleasure — excellent coffee as part of the walking meditation rather than a destination.
Is that silly? Maybe. But I think there's something to be said for letting a place change your routines rather than forcing it to fit what already exists.
The Best Rolls in Paris?
They're not just doing cinnamon rolls, though that would be enough. The selection changes: cinnamon (classic, perfect, what you dream about), cardamom, saffron-orange, lemon (bright, less sweet, made for espresso).
In summer they do fruit — peach-basil, strawberry-vanilla, blueberry. Real fruit, at peak season, not flavoring.
The cardamom one. Can we talk about the cardamom one for a moment? It's not trying to be familiar. It makes you pay attention, makes you taste something you thought you knew in a completely different context. This is what I mean about conscious consumption — when something simple becomes worthy of consideration, of savoring rather than consuming.
Homemade baked goods
I learned last night that they make all of their pastries in-house, if you can believe it. This is actually pretty unusual for a coffee shop in Paris as most partner with local bakeries to supplie their baked goods. I was told that they bake everything in the basement, under the shop. BTW, the chocolate chip cookies are to die for - you have to take one to go. I promise you… they’re the best I've found in the city so far.
I think she’s jealous… 🤣
But Actually, It's About the Coffee
Here's what you need to understand: their team just took first place in a major competition. They have a double French champion, Edouard, who's heading to Bangkok for the World Championships. This isn't neighborhood coffee shop enthusiasm. This is international-level excellence being served in a space that used to sell travel packages.
They rotate through amazing roasters — Friedhats, Coffee Collective, Rose from Zürich, Special Guests from the UK, Sey and Manhattan from New York. Each week the selection changes. If you know coffee, these names mean something. If you don't, just understand that getting these coffees in Paris, fresh, rotating constantly — it's like having a conversation with the entire global coffee community from one small shop near the Seine.
Every flat white I've had there has been impeccable. Not good, not great — impeccable. The kind where muscle memory from years of morning coffee suddenly pays attention, recognizes something exceptional happening.
How This Fits Into Our Paris Life
Adding this stop to our morning walk to include Motor's adds maybe ten minutes, but those ten minutes have become so special. Some mornings we get lucky with inside seats and watch the ballet of excellent baristas at work while waiting for our turn. Most mornings we don't, and that's fine. We take our coffee and whatever pastry is calling that day and continue to the river.
If you're shopping at La Samaritaine, visiting Île de la Cité, wandering through Place Dauphine, or heading to the Pinault Collection — it's right there.
What This Autumn Ritual Means
This is exactly what we talked about the week of September 1st — making living itself an art. Not through grand gestures or Instagram-worthy moments, but through these small, deliberate choices about how we spend our mornings, where we put our money, what rituals we allow to reshape our days.
Motor's isn't trying to be precious or exclusive. The founders came from fashion, could have made this trendy, exclusive, and purposefully photographable. Instead they made it excellent. They compete internationally not for marketing but because that's the standard they hold themselves to. The team is young, talented, and could probably make more money elsewhere, but they're here, making perfect coffee and cardamom rolls that haunt my dreams.
Supporting places like this — it's voting for a certain kind of world. One where expertise matters, where someone taking time to perfect the balance of saffron and orange in a morning pastry is considered worthwhile work, where excellence doesn't require attitude.
The Truth About Living Here Now
I'm documenting this because this is the autumn when I changed our morning route for cardamom rolls. 🤣 When Edouard was preparing for Bangkok. When the team knew us well enough to laugh at my joke about getting fat on their pastries. When Paris felt like home in a way that included this specific coffee shop with its too-few seats and perfect flat whites.
These are the details I want to remember. The way October light comes through their window in the morning. The particular happiness of securing inside seats on a drizzly day.
This is conscious consumption as memory-making. As root-setting. It is the small accumulation of choices that becomes the texture of a life.
This is about always looking for the extraordinary and taking the time to search it out - not letting it just letting life happen to you.
