Led by three friends in picturesque Sullivan County, Threshold makes Korean fare approachable to guests while honoring the flavors of the cuisine.
Nestled on a quiet street in Sullivan County’s Livingston Manor, an unexpected portal between two mountain ranges has emerged. Threshold, the area’s first Korean restaurant, connects the rugged beauty of the Catskills with the mountainside restaurants that dot the periphery of Seoul—creating something entirely its own.
It all began with a friendship forged in the vibrant restaurant scenes of Chicago and New York. Owners Cam Shaw and Thom Chun met while working together—first with Shaw running the front of house while Chun worked in the kitchen, then as beverage director and chef, respectively. Over the years, they built a shared vision of what hospitality, both for guests and employees, could be. Once Shaw met their now husband and co-owner Pete Choo, a corporate consultant by trade, the trio was complete.
The journey to Livingston Manor was sparked, like many pandemic-era stories, with an Airbnb stay in 2021. “We first came up here in 2021 when my sister-in-law rented an Airbnb in Roscoe for my little brother’s 30th,” recalls Shaw, who grew up in rural Michigan and spent time in the Southern Appalachians. The natural beauty of the area resonated deeply, and after nearly 15 years in Chicago and New York City, they set their sights on the Hudson Valley.
Finding the Space
When they found the property formerly known as Little North, it felt, as Choo describes it, “like kismet.” The first and only location they visited would become not just their restaurant, but their home (the trio lives together above the dining room they’ve created). “We’re friends, we’re roommates, and really kind of share a love of food in general, but restaurants in particular, and how we imagine they should be,” Shaw explains.
But opening a Korean restaurant in a small mountain town wasn’t without its uncertainties. Initially, the team wondered if their vision for traditional Korean food would resonate in the Catskills. “I think we were at a very real risk of sliding into a little bit of that sea of sameness,” Choo admits. “We were uncertain how much the local community really wanted things that were truly Korean.”
Those doubts quickly dissolved during their first winter in town. Through conversations with locals and transplants alike, they found an enthusiastic audience hungry for authentic flavors and experiences. During pop-ups before their official opening, they sold out of their tofu ssam set, sending friends on late-night grocery runs to ShopRite to keep up with the demand. The community’s message was clear: don’t tone it down. This enthusiastic response encouraged them to embrace their original vision and take out a small business loan to create the fully realized space they’d dreamed of. “I don’t think we fully appreciated what a wonderful community there was up here and how integrated and welcomed we would be made to feel in this first year,” Shaw reflects. “I think we really kind of lucked into that.”
Spotlighting Korean Cuisine
The restaurant officially opened its doors in November 2024, offering “unapologetically Korean” dishes that honor both culinary traditions and local ingredients. “Korean food is fundamentally peasant food,” Chun explains. “It’s food that’s born from colonization and occupation and survival. And that means eating what you have where you are, eating seasonally.”
This philosophy aligns perfectly with their Hudson Valley location. Chun’s approach to creating the menu mirrors Korean cuisine’s village-by-village specificity. “We’re not trying to force a square peg into a round hole,” he explains. “We’re utilizing what’s already here with us and trying to find its logical or spiritual counterpart in Korean cooking.” Chun works closely with local producers like Snowdance Farms and Somewhere in Time Farm, among others. “What’s lucky for us is being in the area that we are, we get to work very closely with the local producers out here,” says Chun. “It’s been changing almost every time we learn about a new thing that’s in season here or find a new producer or farmer that we haven’t heard of before.”
A Community-Minded Approach
Threshold’s commitment to locality extends beyond menu ingredients. The restaurant’s approach to pricing also reflects a deep understanding of the community’s needs. In an area experiencing rapid change, they’ve deliberately structured their menu to be accessible to all. “We’ve done what we can to make sure that our space is for everyone,” Shaw emphasizes. They maintain several entrees under $20, including bibimbap, chicken noodle soup, and gukbap (rice soup), deliberately accepting lower margins on these items to ensure regular visits remain affordable.
“Having things that are affordable means that people can afford to come back,” Shaw explains. “You can make the numbers work on that higher amount of traffic rather than needing to ring every dollar out of every guest.” This philosophy also applies to their business strategy. Tips are split evenly among all employees based on hours worked, and they practice open book management, making their finances transparent to staff and community members alike.
Their staffing similarly prioritizes community. Instead of relocating experienced restaurant workers from New York City, they’ve primarily hired locally. “We were looking for folks who were going to connect us more deeply to the place where we are,” Shaw explains. “You can’t teach ‘give a damn.’ If folks care and they bring a skill set of any sort, we can teach a lot of other things.” The choice to hire locals also influences the guest experience. “I think that puts guests a little more at ease,” Choo notes, “especially if they’re feeling out like, ‘What’s this new thing made by people who came up from the city – is it for us?'”
The dining room at Threshold strikes a delicate balance, managing to feel polished yet deeply comfortable. This isn’t by accident, but rather the result of Shaw’s years of experience in high-end dining, and their determination to do things differently.
“After so many years of working in high-end restaurants in the city, where the norm sometimes is to treat guests as if they’re lucky to be there, I want anyone who walks through our door to feel like we feel intensely fortunate that you, you personally, are here,” they explain. “Because we are.”
It’s an ethos that manifests in countless small ways, from the sight of their dogs in the window above the restaurant to the carefully considered menu descriptions that include both Korean and English names, along with approachable explanations of each dish. Don’t know what to order? Just ask Shaw, who goes above and beyond to tailor recommendations to each guest’s palate and preferences.
A Tempting Menu
Choo, who brings what he calls a “guest mindset” to the ownership group, helps bridge the gap between traditional Korean cuisine and those who might be trying it for the first time. “There’s a tension that exists between being the most authentic and being highly accessible,” he reflects. “How do we educate without being condescending, and how do we include things we think are authentic without subtly making people feel like this place isn’t for them?”
The answer lies in thoughtful menu design and execution. Take the bibimbap ($14), a classic Korean rice bowl that serves as the perfect entry point for newcomers while also satisfying those familiar with the cuisine. Guests can choose to add proteins like tofu, beef, or a sunny egg, making the dish both approachable and adaptable to different preferences. The potato appetizer ($12), elevated with chicken fat and trout roe, offers another marriage between familiar comfort food and new flavors.
The tuna bite ($6), arguably the restaurant’s most popular dish, is small but mighty (and the only menu item that Shaw advises not sharing). A fresh, melt-in-your-mouth slice of raw tuna is brushed with a sweet, tangy, and ever-so-slightly spicy chojang sauce, then draped over a spoonful of warm rice with sesame seeds and placed on an ultrathin and crispy piece of gim. Another standout starter is the seemingly simple winter greens salad ($13). Locally sourced spinach, turnip greens, and beet greens are enveloped in a deeply flavorful, almost tahini-like acorn vinaigrette that’s packed with umami. It’s topped with thinly shaved radish, which adds the perfect amount of crunch as well as a peppery bite that cuts through any lingering richness. The vegetable fritters ($11) are perhaps the most familiar appetizer choice, but the highly addictive dipping sauce is a welcome surprise that will have you licking your fingers after each bite.
Entrees are well-portioned and hearty without feeling gluttonous. The half chicken ssam is a crowd pleaser, creating a choose-your-own-adventure style eating experience that everyone at the table can enjoy. It’s a large plate of juicy roasted chicken that comes with rice, cashew ssamjang, kimchi, and braised potato meant to be mixed and matched, then rolled into lettuce wraps with the provided sesame leaf and romaine. The pork dwaeji-gogi ($26) is a revelation; lusciously tender slices of pork are glazed in a doenjang soy sauce and accompanied by sides of mixed rice, jang-ajji (soy-pickled jalapenos and daikon radish), and perfectly spicy and pungent kimchi made with cucumbers and cabbage.
Each dish demonstrates a thoughtful attention to detail and an expert ability to showcase bold flavors that evoke both excitement and familiarity. Threshold has proven that its commitment to comfort and accessibility hasn’t come at the expense of authenticity, instead creating something entirely unique– a restaurant that honors both Korean culinary traditions and the specific character of its Catskills home. “You are crossing the threshold into our home,” Choo says, explaining the restaurant’s name. “And a threshold is also a point at which something begins. This is the beginning of something new, the introduction of new flavors to this community.”
An Exciting Future
In a region that can, at times, feel divided between locals and newcomers, Threshold has found a way to be a bridge between cultures, communities, and the mountains of two vastly different continents. It’s a reminder that sometimes the most authentic thing you can do is simply create space for people to gather and share a meal together.
As for the future? “We’re just getting started,” reflects Chun. “Our goal is to continue growing with the community, to keep pushing boundaries while respecting traditions, and to create food that brings people together.” Shaw adds that in the long term, they’d ultimately like to remain open to the community seven days a week. But for now, they invite guests to dine with them Wednesday through Sunday, from 5-10 p.m.
Threshold Restaurant represents a new chapter in the story of American dining—one where cultural authenticity doesn’t mean rigid adherence to tradition, but rather a thoughtful evolution that respects both origins and place. In doing so, it’s not just serving meals; it’s fostering understanding and community, one plate at a time.
Threshold is open Wednesday through Sunday for dinner service. Reservations are recommended, especially for weekend dining.
430 Old Rte 17, Livingston Manor
845.204.8814
Website
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