Dave's Bar Mouche

At Dave's Bar Mouche you won't find any flies on it. Excepting if you order Sambuca con Mosca. 

And, if you want to amuse your bouche, we have a lovely menu replete from little snacky bits; to "Sushi on a Nude"; even dishes prepared with cutting edge experimental techniques such as molecular, foams, To-Space-and-Back, and — our own innovation — "Cannon Shot". That last item is pretty much what you would think. Shot from a cannon. Your choice: We can aim it to our "Eating Wall" for you to take from buffet style, or comin' directly right at you. For the latter choice, you do have to sign a waiver.

You may want to whisper your special request in the Maitre D's ear for our most outrageously decadent dessert, "Pêche Poussé".

How it came to be . . . 

A friend went out to a fancy French restaurant looking for an amazing meal, spare no expense.

“Please won’t you prepare your very best dishes for me, chef’s choice.”

Course following course. Every one, a triumph. Each, better than the other.

Finally, the dessert course . . .

The maître de arrives tableside with a cart on top of which is a pyramid of the most exquisite colorful ripe peaches precisely placed on a gold tray surrounded by pink roses. He is accompanied by a gorgeous young lady wearing a peachy pink outfit with a short skirt with lots of ruffles and petticoats. The maître de selects the prime most peach, inserts a fork into it and proceeds to peel the juicy fruit in one deft movement. He then smugly presents the peach to the diner.

On cue the young lady lifts her skirt. It is clear to be seen that she is not wearing any panties. And, as smooth as a peach herself. The maître de gently places the juicy peach between her soft ingénue thighs, whereupon she proceeds to wriggle and writhe, squirming and gyrating around the peach between her legs.

After quite a long time she stops and the maître de lifts up the peach and exclaims, “Voilà, monsieur, Pêche Poussé!”

Shocked, the man blurts out, “No way am I going to eat THAT peach!”

The maître de diplomatically rejoins, “Ah, monsieur, the PEACH . . . you do not eat.”