And that’s what it feels like to stumble upon a new wave Korean pop-up at a diner older than your grandmother in the sleepy bear town of Guerneville. My husband and I were innocently strolling the town’s strip when — WHAM — the sound of ’90s hip-hop drew us into a crowded, red-lit restaurant of free-flowing sake and Korean vittles.
Where were we, New York City? Current issues of Lucky Peach were sitting on the counter, and the whole place had the down and dirty vibe of a thumping nightlife eatery. In fact, if Mission Chinese slept with a vintage diner and had a Korean baby, it would look something like Hi Five. Seven shots of sake and a bowl of bibimbap with KFC (Korean Fried Crack) later, my mind was racing with questions:
What was this hard-partying Korean joint doing in Guerneville? Who were the owners? Did they have chefs David Chang and Danny Bowien on speed dial? And was that really crack in the chicken? (I kid.) The first chance I had, I went back to find out.
It turns out Hi Five owners David Blomster and Eugene Birdsall met while working together at Boon Eat + Drink restaurant, just down the street. David, a server of four years, and Eugene, one of the chefs, cooked up the idea for Hi Five in their off-hours over test-kitchen projects and dinner parties. David wanted to open a noodle house like the ones he had frequented in Los Angeles — well designed, modest, fast, and easy. But Eugene wanted to experiment with the Korean dishes he had grown up with as a kid.
They settled on the idea of offering diner-style Seoul food, and opened in December with a menu that draws inspiration from good ol’ American greasy spoons and traditional Korean eats. It was just luck that they ended up serving out of a diner that’s been on the main drag of Guerneville since 1946 and owned by the same family for three generations. They now turn out dinner five nights a week, drawing a mix of hipsters from San Francisco and local townies seeking nourishment after a good time at Pat’s, the ever popular dive bar next door.
If there’s one thing you must order at Hi Five, it’s a drink. After hearing that The Bold Italic was in the house, Eugene bounded out of the kitchen, plunked down in our booth, and kicked off a celebratory round of soju shots. Reminding us of the old Korean adage to “never pour your own soju,” he indulged us until the bottle ran dry. This was just an appetizer for the slightly sweet, unfiltered sake that made its way to our table the rest of the night.
Although Eugene comes across as a party boy, his lady (a sprightly, pink-haired server at Hi Five named Heather) tells me that he’s downright serious about food. His aunt and uncle own a mushroom farm and work the farmers’ market circuit, and his mother had a proper Korean meal on the table every night. She painstakingly taught him to prepare her repertoire of traditional dishes, and he still rings her up regularly to discuss things like the nuances of kimchi preparation.
In fact, a good number of the Korean dishes that Hi Five serves are based on recipes that have been tweaked for generations and then passed down to Eugene. The bibimbap alone hides decades of familial secrets in its organized chaos of seaweed,gochujang (chili pepper paste), market vegetables, and fried eggy-ness. And the clay pot dish, a spicy stew of local fish and mollusks, is cooked directly over the fire, just like it would have been in old Seoul.
But overall, Hi Five is about bucking expectations. If you order something on the menu with a grease component to it, you can bet it’s going to be downright tasty. The kimchi pancakes, served up with spring onions and pickled mushrooms with a sesame vinaigrette, are a house favorite, and the kimchi pierogies with plum dipping sauce are a close contender. (Forced to choose between the two, my head would probably explode.)
Some menu items — like the Kobe beef hot dog with pickled daikon and the fries with garlic, chili pepper, seaweed, and kimchi — have an obvious Korean twist, but a choice few are strictly American diner style, such as the deep-fried pickles. One standout dish, the dessert special, is not Korean at all. It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, dipped in pancake batter and deep-fried, served with ice cream and Pop Rocks. If that’s not a party in your mouth, you might as well summon the hatchet man and say good night.
Hi Five is so playfully brazen with its menu that it’d be easy to write it off as a fun experiment. But by the looks of the packed booths, it’ll be rocking it for years to come. And with the excellent Boon Eat + Drink a few doors down and a highly anticipated restaurant called Seaside Metal by the Bar Crudo folks going in nearby this spring, it’s looking like Hi Five will be a part of the trifecta that morphs Guerneville into a culinary destination. I hope to be bolted to one of Hi Five’s bar stools drinking soju with Eugene when that day comes.
If you’re looking for a raucous city dining experience in an endearingly small town, check out Hi Five for its mind-blowing Korean diner eats. Hi Five is open Wednesday–Thursday 5–10 p.m., Friday–Saturday 5–11 p.m., Sunday 5–10 p.m. Be sure to say hi (and maybe do a sake shot with) David, Eugene, or pink-haired Heather. And don’t forget to order that deep-fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dessert.
