Curtis Kimball, who earned the titles “crème brûlée guy” and “pancake guy” after distributing sweet treats with a smile during his 20 years in San Francisco, died Wednesday of an aortic aneurysm. He was 46.
“Curtis was fueled by his love for SF and his joy in adding quirky fun to the city through something that he personally loved,” friends wrote on a donation page for his family.
The idea for a sweets-themed food cart was born in 2009 in Curtis’ garage in the Mission, where he and his older brother Brian would often kick around business ideas. Brian created the Magic Curry Cart, while Curtis manned the Crème Brûlée Cart, which would park near Mission Playground Park. Curtis bought chef hats and jackets for himself and Brian and launched crème brûlée flavors like “s’moregasm” and American Pie.
Mobile businesses were becoming popular in the city, posting their locations on Twitter with the idea of attracting online followers to the in-person offerings.
“Before we knew it, we had 100 people lined down the street,” Brian said.
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For the duo, who grew up in a “cowboy town in northern Arizona,” the food carts were a way to connect with their fellow San Franciscans.
“He was kind of an introvert but had a way of launching himself beyond even his own limits, and I think that’s what inspired people,” Brian said. “It was just infectious.”
Curtis eventually brought his crème brûlée to Off the Grid, the food truck gathering in Fort Mason, and dabbled in permanent locations for his carts, including in the Westfield Mall and near the 24th Street BART station.
Matt Cohen, founder of Off the Grid, remembers how Curtis would create an “experiential component” to his business, coming up with games for customers while they waited in line or giving away free desserts.
“He loved creating a sense of joy around what he was doing,” Cohen said. “You were always getting his cheeky humor.”
Curtis took a hiatus in the late 2010s to work on design and construction projects, according to his brother, but made a public resurgence in 2022, when he hosted several free pandemic-era pancake parties from his stoop in Bernal Heights.
He affixed flyers around the neighborhood saying he was “getting weird” during the pandemic and needed to make new friends. More than 75 people came to his first party, and hundreds attended the second.
“The main goal of this, and the reason I’m putting so much effort and time into it, is I’m hoping to inspire other people to do something similar,” Kimball told The Standard at the time. He wanted to “make San Francisco less whiny and more about people doing stuff,” he said.
When he and his family temporarily relocated to the East Coast that summer, he reflected on his legacy and wrote of his plans to take his pancake slinging on the road.
“I’m making pancakes to make friends,” he said. “I’m making pancakes to spread love. I’m making pancakes so that you’ll make pancakes and you’ll spread love.”
When Lindsay Meyer lived in the Marina, Curtis’ cart at Fort Mason was a staple of her weekends. With the news of his death, she found herself in tears.
“It causes me to reflect on how impactful, even years later, small moments of joy can be,” she said. “A $5 crème brûlée on a Friday night can still hold such a strong, emotional memory.”
She loved Curtis’ crème brûlée cups so much that she asked him to make her “dessert dreams come true on short notice” and whip up 30 of them for her 30th birthday party. She still has the mini blow torch he included with her order.
Brian hopes his brother’s legacy of creating connection will be a salve for his children.
“Sharing stuff with other people makes you feel good — it’s like a feedback loop that feeds you. It’s powerful,” he said. “If people could find ways to share with those around them, it might help. Not everything’s futile. You can affect your close surroundings and that can also impact larger groups of people, and even the world.”
In addition to his brother, Curtis is survived by his wife, Nicole, two daughters, and “a soon-to-be-brother,” due this fall. His friends and family are hosting a service Friday in Sebastopol, where he most recently lived.