2010 Vacation/Travel Supplement

Oldenburg restaurant is official stop on Chicken Trail U.S.A.

Family owned and operated since 1968, Wagner’s Village Inn is a popular eating place for visitors to Oldenburg, a quaint German village in southeastern Indiana that offers a combination of beautiful scenery and spiritual refreshment. (Photo by John Shaughnessy)

By John Shaughnessy

OLDENBURG—There’s little doubt that Wagner’s Village Inn is consumed with thoughts of chicken and its claim of having “the best pan-fried chicken in southeastern Indiana.”

A sign in the window of this restaurant along the main street of this step-back-in-time German village proclaims, “This establishment is an official stop on the Chicken Trail U.S.A.”

Then there are the wood carvings of chickens at the entrance of Wagner’s, including one of a chicken standing up and holding a “Welcome” sign.

Still, the most telling sign that this restaurant takes its fried chicken seriously came when I sat at a table in the restaurant’s tavern-like setting and noticed that, instead of a cloth or paper napkin, there was a large, thick, cotton hand towel wrapped around a fork, knife and spoon. (Road trip restaurant review alert)

When I saw the towel, I momentarily figured that someone had tipped off the restaurant staff about my arrival and my eating style. But the towels are at every place setting—a sure sign that they expect people to get their hands messy here.

Checking the menu, I debated whether to order the half chicken, which comes with a breast, a leg, a thigh, a wing and a back for $5.95. Then the waitress recommended the $6.95 lunch special featuring two pieces of fried chicken, cole slaw, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and rolls and butter—the kind of meal that farmers in this rural part of the state savor, the kind of meal that heart doctors warn their city patients about eating.

A smarter, more health-conscious city resident would have ordered the grilled chicken Caesar salad. Naturally, I went for the lunch special.

When the plate arrived piping hot, I immediately thought of the two kinds of people in the world—those who eat fried chicken with a knife and a fork, and those who eat fried chicken with their hands, no matter the setting or the occasion.

As a loyal member of that second group, I reached for the breast of chicken. After tasting Wagner’s fried chicken, I can’t really say it’s the best fried chicken in southeastern Indiana because I haven’t done enough testing, but it is delicious, meaty and definitely in need of a large, thick, cotton towel to wipe your hands. Personally, a hose could have helped, too.

As for the service, the lone waitress was friendly and attentive, a nice touch that may or may not have been related to the fact that I was the only customer for most of my visit.

Maybe that also explains why the waitress asked me three times if I wanted more gravy for the creamy mashed potatoes. I declined each time, but I appreciated her thoughtfulness, especially when she looked at me after I cleared my plate and she said, “You look like you need a nap, hon.”

That hospitable concern seemed a natural reflection of this quaint village where street signs are in German and English. Oldenburg is also a great place to walk through the scenic, spirit-refreshing grounds of the Sisters of St. Francis’ motherhouse and Oldenburg Academy of the Immaculate Conception.

The village is also home to Michaela Farm, where the Franciscan sisters sell vegetables, flowers, herbs, honey and eggs.

On the return trip to Indianapolis along I-74, an exit sign for Shelbyville reminded me of that community’s favorite ice cream destination—The Cow Palace, a place known for its turtle sundae featuring vanilla ice cream, hot fudge topping, caramel topping and pecans.

Obviously, that combination was far too decadent to load upon my fried chicken lunch special so I restrained myself and just ordered a hot fudge sundae.

Now that I’m back to my normal eating routine, I still think fondly of my visit to Wagner’s. In fact, as I write this review two days after my visit there, I can still feel grease on my fingertips. I knew I should have asked to keep that towel. †

(Related story: ‘A slice of heaven’ awaits visitors to scenic Madison)