Revolutionizing · Modernizing · Simplifying
Revolutionizing · Modernizing · Simplifying
Monday, 10 a.m. That is the moment. That is when Sadboy Creamery drops its new flavors for the week, and if you blink, you are done. Gone. Sold out. Come back next Monday and try again, sad boy.
Here is the thing most people do not realize about Sadboy. This is not some viral gimmick that popped up last week. Chef and recipe developer Michael Kimball started it back in 2023, right in the middle of that wave of small-batch ice cream makers that took off in Denver after the pandemic. He was selling 14 pints. Fourteen. Mostly to friends and family, the kind of thing where you text your buddy and say hey, I made ice cream, come get some.
Fast forward. Sadboy now cranks out over 700 pints a week, according to co-owner Austin Walker, who happens to be Kimball's husband. And it still is not enough. The pints vanish.
So how do you even get this stuff right now? You do not walk in. There is no counter, no scoop, no waffle cone. Sadboy runs an order-ahead-only model, and pickup happens out of a space above City 'o City near 1280 N. Sherman St. in Cap Hill. New flavors post Monday morning at 10. You order, you wait, you pick up. That is the whole dance.
And the flavors are the reason people set alarms. This is nostalgia in a pint. Cloudy Day Cotton Candy. Cookie Circus. Cosmic Frownie Batter. Teary-misu. Dirty Earl. Raspberry Pretzel Pie. I mean, read those names again. That is a brand that knows exactly what it is doing.
The Denver Gazette ran an Ice Cream Shop Bracket and ranked Sadboy one of the top four brands in the whole city. Not bad for a guy who started with 14 pints and a group text.
Now, let us talk about the
But here is what is actually happening. The Sadboys, and I am quoting the vibe here, disdain air. Your standard grocery-store pint is pumped full of air to make it feel bigger than it is. That pint might weigh around 250 grams. A Sadboy pint starts at about 550 grams. So you are getting more than double the actual ice cream. When you do the math per gram, that
Okay, so here is why this matters right now. Sadboy is finally getting a brick-and-mortar shop. An actual storefront you can walk into.
The spot is 1502 N. Marion St., taking over the old French for Sugar space just off East Colfax Avenue. Kimball announced it on Instagram, and the team is targeting a September 2026 opening. Construction is already underway.
And this is the part people miss. It is not just about having a cute counter to walk up to. The new space is expected to let the team produce up to four times as many pints. Four times. So the thing that sells out in seconds every Monday? There is a real shot those pints finally become gettable. Not guaranteed, this is Sadboy, but the math is moving in your favor for the first time.
Kimball had options, I am sure. But he stayed close to home. His number one goal, in his words, was to stay as close as possible to the place and community where he got his start. The Sherman Street pickup spot and the new Marion Street shop are both right there in the Cap Hill and East Colfax orbit. This is a guy planting his flag in the neighborhood that built him instead of chasing a Cherry Creek rent check.
And honestly, from a real estate angle, this is a smart read on where Colfax is right now. That stretch off East Colfax has been quietly turning over for a while, with the Bus Rapid Transit project reshaping the corridor and older retail spaces changing hands. French for Sugar closing and Sadboy sliding into that space is exactly the kind of small-business turnover that tells you where a neighborhood is heading. Dessert people follow foot traffic, and they are betting on this block.
The crew rounding this out includes co-owner Adam Yala alongside Kimball and Walker, plus the hand-packing team. Small operation. Big following. Growing fast.
So September 2026 is the date to circle. Until then, the Monday 10 a.m. scramble continues, and yeah, you will probably still miss out on Teary-misu at least once. But the days of Sadboy being Denver's most maddeningly impossible-to-get pint might actually be numbered.
Set your alarm. And save the address. 1502 N. Marion St. Your future self, standing at an actual counter next fall, will thank you.