A small corner of Heaven is actually located off Peachtree Street in Atlanta, and it's called "Dante's." It's a fondue restaurant, see, that's set up inside like an old Spanish galleon; when you walk in, it looks like you're standing on an old-fashioned wharf, with water in the center and a scale model of a pirate ship floating in it. Dante, the rather eccentric owner, breeds crocodiles, which he keeps in the water around the ship.
If you want to know what Heaven is like, go to Dante's for chocolate fondue. You need to book reservations for chocolate fondue at least 2 days in advance (that's how long it takes them to prepare it), and they only serve it to one party a night. The chocolate is hand-folded for eight hours before you arrive, so get there EXACTLY when your reservations say.
When we arrived, we were brought into the special "chocolate room" and greeted by Dante himself, who is a very strange and quite entertaining man.
Then the chocolate arrived. Swiss chocolate, sweet cream, simmered together for eight hours.
Then the fruit tray arrived. Carried by two people. Bearing such a mountain of fruit that our server said in the 30-year history of Dante's, only five parties have ever finished it all.
It was good.
Not Krispy Kreme good. Not "sirloin steak given to a starving man" good. Not "Congratulations, you've just won the Lotto!" good.
Oh, no. This was Roman Emperor good.
This was the most decadent thing I've ever experienced in my life--at least where everyone was dressed. This was "Heaven and a choir of angels meets nude Jello wrestling." This was the bliss of Paradise and the decadence of the Roman senate in the same place.
We're back from Atlanta now; I'll write more or later.