It Don T Matter Family Restaurant Menu

The first time I ate at It Don’t Matter Family Restaurant, I watched a man spend eleven minutes deciding between a burger and chicken-fried steak. The waitress finally leaned over and said, “Honey, either way you’re gonna need a nap.” He laughed, ordered both, and I understood the place immediately.

The name sounds like a shrug. The menu, however, is a full-on love letter to comfort food. It doesn’t matter what you’re in the mood for, because the odds are good they’ve got it—and they’ve probably got gravy for it, too.

Breakfast Doesn’t Take Sides

The Classics

If you arrive before noon—or honestly, whenever—the breakfast section is where the menu gets serious. You’re looking at eggs any style, bacon, sausage, hash browns, pancakes, and biscuits that could double as doorstops.

The omelets are the kind that hang over the plate. The breakfast burrito is a handheld meal prep for a lumberjack. And the biscuits and gravy? Do not skip them unless you have a medical reason or a grudge against happiness.

You can also get breakfast combos, which is code for “pick your meats and pretend you’ll share.” You won’t. That’s fine.

Nobody at It Don’t Matter is judging you. They’re too busy refilling coffee.

Burgers, Plates, and Other Good Decisions

Lunch and dinner read like a small-town reunion. Burgers come in classic form, cheeseburger form, bacon-cheeseburger form, and probably a patty melt that makes you consider moving closer.

Then there’s the blue-plate crowd: chicken-fried steak, meatloaf, open-faced roast beef, pork tenderloin, catfish, and chicken strips. Yes, chicken strips.

They’re not fancy. They’re reliable, which is better.

Sandwiches get their own spotlight, too. Club sandwiches, BLTs, grilled cheese, and whatever daily special is scrawled on the whiteboard.

It Don't Matter Family Restaurant, Highland Home - Restaurant menu

If the whiteboard says “stuffed peppers,” trust it. If it says “come back tomorrow,” come back tomorrow.

Daily Specials and Small-Town Math

The whiteboard specials are where the kitchen shows off without making a fuss. A plate might come with a roll, a side, and enough food to make you cancel your afternoon plans.

You’ll see things like chicken and dumplings, pot roast, or a casserole with a name nobody can fully explain. Order it anyway. Casseroles are how small towns communicate love and cream of mushroom soup.

Prices are the kind that make you double-check the bill, not because they’re wrong, but because you feel like you got away with something. Leave a good tip. It’s only fair.

Sides That Deserve Their Own Zip Code

Sides are where the menu quietly becomes dangerous. Mashed potatoes, green beans, fried okra, corn, baked beans, coleslaw, fries, and onion rings all show up like they own the place.

You’ll be asked to choose two or three. You’ll try to be reasonable. Then you’ll add onion rings “for the table” and eat most of them yourself.

We’ve all been there, and by “we” I mean you.

The fried okra has that cornmeal crunch that makes you forget every soggy version you’ve ever met. The mashed potatoes are real, lumpy in the right way, and ready for a butter landslide.

It Don't Matter Family Restaurant in Highland Home - Restaurant menu

Pie Is Not a Question

Sweet Endings

Dessert at It Don’t Matter is not a debate. It’s a confession. Homemade pie, cobbler, banana pudding, and maybe a cake that rotates in and out like a guest star.

Ask what’s fresh. Ask what’s warm. Ask if they can put a scoop of ice cream on it, and then act surprised when they say yes.

You knew. I knew. The waitress knew before you walked in.

If you’re one of those people who says, “I’ll just have a bite,” order your own slice. A shared bite is a myth invented by people who want your pie.

How to Order Without Overthinking It

Here’s the thing about the menu at It Don’t Matter Family Restaurant: it isn’t trying to impress you with foam or edible flowers. It’s trying to feed you like someone’s grandma wrote the specials and someone’s uncle ran the grill.

So order what sounds good. If two things sound good, order both. If you can’t decide, remember the restaurant’s own philosophy: it don’t matter.

What matters is that you leave full, slightly sleepy, and already planning a return trip for the pie you didn’t order. That’s not a review. That’s a warning.

And yes, you should still go.