This may have happened to you: You call a restaurant, and instead of a live person, you get a recorded voice telling you to leave a message and someone will get back to you. Or even worse, you go online looking for a restaurant’s phone number, only to discover there isn’t one.  

Your experience of social media may be as a fun time-waster, an angst-producing FOMO (fear of missing out) machine or the reason you know your Uncle Dennis believes in ancient aliens. But to many restaurant owners, social media is a necessity.

Mokelumne Hill may not be the busiest tourist hub in the Amador-Calaveras Sierra Nevada foothills loop that includes Sutter Creek, Jackson, Angels Camp and Murphys. But that doesn’t mean the uniquely well-preserved 1850s Gold Rush-era settlement along the Mokelumne River, often called Moke Hill by the locals, is lacking in things to do and see. 

If you can’t get enough of the holiday season and want to surround yourself with sparkling, glittering decorations while sipping on a craft cocktail adorned with cranberries and sprigs of rosemary, a pop-up bar is just for you.

On a cold December day, it’s easy to dream about cocooning in a cozy cabin under the pines, fireplace aflame, hands cradled around a steaming mug of cocoa. Think flannel, friends, food and four wooden walls beneath an A-line roof that’s frosted with snow.

It’s a stop for nightly commuters, a biker bar and a family-oriented historical highway landmark, hosting everything from car shows, weddings and baby showers, to taco Thursdays and Wednesday trivia nights. 

Bud Milo enters the 90-year-old restaurant and bar on Main Street in Rio Vista for the first time, and his expression immediately changes after seeing 300 mounted hunting trophies and photos lining the walls. “There’s a whole lot of animals here,” says the incredulous Milo.

Winning a Michelin star is something ambitious chefs spend a lifetime dreaming of and working toward. A star from the world-famous Michelin Guide promises life-changing benefits: Money. Customers. Fame. There’s even a term for it: the Michelin effect.