Coffee in the Countryside
People dream of living in Paris. I dreamt of Paris before moving, and I still count myself lucky to live here.
But Parisians dream of a second home outside of the city. Somewhere quiet, somewhere with space. Somewhere you won't wonder if you’ve stepped in water or pee.
This would be a luxury for anyone. Growing up in California, it reminds me of San Francisco and its surrounding smaller cities. Paris is incredibly expensive. Look anywhere else in France and costs drop dramatically the moment you venture to less traveled places. This is where my idea begins.
I've lived in Paris since 2018. I'm a former small business owner turned coffee professional, now head roaster for a small group of three Paris coffee shops and a roasting collective.
For years, my relaxation time has included browsing French countryside property listings. After studying hundreds, patterns emerge: stone buildings, ruins, multiple structures, and "dépendances" as the French call them. From this, a new idea started brewing.
Over the past year, I've refined my concept for a personal coffee project. I'm developing it intentionally, taking my time until it's ready to launch.
The seed of this idea formed after visiting global coffee shops, working behind counters, operating various roasting machines, training others, and witnessing Paris's remarkable specialty coffee boom over seven years.
People often ask if I'd open my own shop. My answer was always a quick "no." Previous business ownership made me cautious about trying again without meeting specific criteria.
I joke with my wife that I'd only open a coffee shop if I could "remove rent and salaries." But there's truth in this. Coffee shops become locomotives—once moving, they're hard to slow down or redirect. When you sign a lease, the clock starts ticking. You have limited time to transform a space, buy equipment, hire staff, market yourself, and get everything right from day one. You can plan extensively, but once that clock starts, it never stops.
Unless, perhaps, there's another way.
Consider a coffee kiosk—a project that deepened my interest in coffee though I never launched it. The rent is minimal compared to a nearby shop. If one person handles everything—sourcing, roasting, creating recipes, making coffee, engaging with the community—it becomes more appealing. I proposed one for a park near my apartment but after a year of waiting, another concept was chosen. This got me thinking: what else is possible? What unique concept doesn't yet exist in France? Something without tight deadlines, major risks, investors, or employees—and without the formulaic experience Standart magazine recently criticized in specialty coffee design.
What about these affordable countryside ruins with their space and outbuildings? What if specialty coffee came to "une petite fermette"? You'd pay a mortgage but have no landlord, no timeline, no extra rent, no build-out restrictions, no conventional framework. A place with history and provenance. Somewhere quiet yet accessible from Paris by train. A place to gradually transform a barn into a magical coffee sanctuary.
Imagine coffee from one person's vision, working directly with a single producer, harvesting and processing an exclusive batch, then roasting it on-site with specific intentions. Imagine spending weeks perfecting recipes, making house-made milks, crafting cups, hand-painting labels. The menu would skip flat whites and lattes for unique drinks you've never tried but somehow feel just right.
This is countryside specialty coffee in France—what it should be, and what I aim to create.
These are my initial project notes: why I'm creating it, its uniqueness, why it belongs in today's coffee world, and my ongoing research. I'll detail everything from space design to equipment selection and menu creation.