It’s official: Trouble Coffee is no longer rented at 4033 Judah Avenue, as Damnfine, a fellow Sunset company, has taken over the lease effective July 2. Dark coffee can take some comfort in the knowledge that it can still buy roasted San Leandro beans. Just like the good old days, Carrelli will send a bag of beans home by bike—though, like the best surf breaks, this service is only for Sunset locals.
Kareli never wanted Trouble to be just a coffee shop; She knew it was a coffee business, or so she said Standard Magazine for its 27th edition in June 2022. Her commitment to her profession is now more evident than ever due to the newest online Trouble Store items. Carrelli’s Elbow Grease mix, named after the auto shop workers who were one of its first customers, is available for nationwide delivery by mail and by bike delivery for those in the outer sunset. The mix is available by bag ($20) or as a weekly subscription, and one can purchase a medium roast mix from Carrelli, The Hammer, for just $1, also by mail and bike delivery.
It’s not clear how long availability will last, or what the future will eventually look like for the issue. Carrelli signed a 10-year lease shortly before handing the keys over to Damvin, and the Barclayt remodel (which she says was San Francisco’s first real park) wasn’t long before moving in, too. When Kareli opened about 15 years ago, the toast scene was nascent and specialty coffee had not yet had to develop a personality beyond the clinical simplicity often associated with coffee sprawl. Her personality, liveliness and legacy are undeniable. Rai Littlejohn from Mission District pop-up Deathless Coffee is a big fan and friend of Karelle. Trouble describes it as the kind of place that’s instantly familiar while still endlessly curious, a house party hosted by your best friend but filled with people you’ve never met before. “Beach vibes, nods to punk rock everywhere, and the flow of it all. It felt like an extension of someone’s brain,” Little John says.
The Yehuda location was his favorite coffee shop in town, he said. That’s how San Franciscan Cleo Charpentier was born and raised, too. She was hanging out at the store in high school, when she and her friends were “practically making a pilgrimage” for toast and coffee. She remembers trying to order, because the store doesn’t have a menu, and she felt like an inside once she found out. “The problem is the cornerstone of sunset,” Charpentier says. “When I was looking to move there, the only criterion was that I was within walking distance of the store.”
Kareli, and her loyal dog, Pig, have garnered a tremendous amount of “credibility,” as Kareli calls it, in her neighborhood and in the coffee shop scene. Article in Pacific Standard Put a peanut butter and cinnamon toast on everyone’s radar, and “This American Life” is on NPR The good word caught wind, dedicating a third of them There is no place like home A ring to her story and a cafe. (Though, for what it’s worth, Kareli said Standard Magazine The excessive focus on her mental health, a part of her life she is not ashamed of, made him an inappropriate and inaccurate representation of her business.) The third wave of toast, so named by the coffee outlet sprodge, owes as much to Carrelli, as does anyone who has stopped by for a high-octane glass of Elbow Grease. Honor while you still can with your craft dollars.