October is Dining Month on OnMilwaukee.com. All month, we're stuffed with restaurant reviews, special features, chef profiles and unique articles on everything food. Bon appetit!

We swung by a brand new southeast side restaurant for dinner last night to grab a quick bite and I was quickly struck by one of my biggest restaurant gripes which set the tone for a severely unpleasant dining experience.

The bartender greeted us and seated us in the otherwise vacant dining room within arms' length of a table still bearing all the remnants of the diners who had come before us. At first neither of us really gave it too much of a thought, since the assumption would be that our predecessors had just left the restaurant and the waitstaff had not yet had time to clear their plates (which is a whole other topic, because I actually feel dinnerware should all be cleared before you receive your bill -- this was the standard for service 10, and maybe even up to 5 years ago in Milwaukee).

But after about 20 to 30 minutes of our perusing the menu, taking in the settings of the otherwise empty dining area and chatting about our days, soon the table itself became our focal point.

One server went outside to have a cigarette, while two others frolicked in the bar area. While we waited a good amount of time for our sandwiches, the sight of piled up dirty dishes, greasy-fingerprinted glassware and ketchup-smeared, balled up napkins began to inevitably take center stage both in the room itself and in our conversation.

How long had these items been sitting there, and why was no one cleaning them up? It was undoubtedly sitting at least 40 minutes by now, and minute by minute, the smashed French fry remnants on the chairs and floor were becoming more and more repulsive.

Finally, just before our sandwiches arrived, our server went over and picked up the plates, glasses and napkins and walked them to what was presumably the dishwashing area in two trips. But she never washed the table, still covered in misappropriated pepper and slurps and spills of someone else's dinner. We ate our sandwiches in this bare and starkly quiet dining room with a still dirty table next to us and now rancid-looking French fries on the floor.

Scott said when I have to make the second visit to this restaurant, he would prefer not to be my dining companion. I can't blame him. I can't say I'm looking forward to returning either, which is unfortunate, because the sandwiches didn't taste half bad.