We adored this place! Food was great, we had breakfast, but will be back to try the fried chicken!…read moreThe best part was it was so homey and the entire place was filled with laughter and the nicest people. It was so warm and inviting. Hidden Jem on the back rounds. Love, love loved it!! Thank you for amazing hospitality!

Best kept secret down this stretch of the South might just be Peggy's fried chicken…read more Now, a great many places have the confidence to fry a bird. That is not the same as knowing what they're doing. Plenty can make chicken hot. Fewer can make it memorable. Peggy's managed the rarer thing. This was the kind of fried chicken that makes a man quiet for a minute and reconsider whether he has properly valued his past blessings. They had other meats on the menu, and I do not doubt they were prepared by decent people with honest intentions, but ordering anything besides the fried chicken would have felt like showing up at a revival and asking for directions to a yoga class. And the sides, Lord help me, the sides were no afterthought. If I had not attended the funerals myself, I might have suspected my great grandma, grandma, and momma were back there in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the pots. Forgive me, Mammaw G, Mammaw, and Mom, but Peggy's had the better day with that chicken. I say that with love, respect, and a willingness to dodge a lightning bolt if one has been set aside for me. Fried okra, green beans, sweet potatoes, and mac and cheese, which any Southerner with good sense knows is a vegetable when it needs to be, spread across our plates like a family reunion of the righteous. The only medical advisory I'd offer is this: if your doctor has warned you against coating your insides with salt, you may want to admire from a respectful distance. And the sweet tea was right. Not tea-flavored water with ambition. Sweet tea. Properly made. The sort that lets you know nobody in the building is interested in modern nonsense. Next time I'm rolling down I-20, I may well make the turn toward Wrens again just to see whether Peggy's can do it twice. But judging by the regulars, the handshakes, the easy way the staff knew folks by name, and the fact they made us feel halfway local ourselves, I'd say this was no one-off. This felt less like a lucky meal and more like the kind of place that still believes doing something well is reason enough to keep doing it.