Lining up at Café Choklad to order soup, a sandwich, and/or a salad, you inch past a beautiful display case of handmade chocolates and a half-dozen severely tempting chocolate-themed desserts. Your mother trained you well, so you resist — in theory.

Avoiding the chocolate desserts doesn’t mean avoiding chocolate, after all. Check out that S’more panini, grilled with semi-sweet chocolate and marshmallow fluff. Or the caponata de la plata, with cocoa and mission figs tucked into the eggplant relish. Or for a direct hit, grab a cup o’ "wicked chocolate," laced with cayenne, topped with real whipped cream and plenty of dark chocolate shavings.

A friend and I have indulged in all three — and more. Actually, my very first visit to Café Choklad merely involved a chocolate cupcake, a late afternoon pick-me-up (or so I thought). Days later, I was still nibbling the rich chocolate cake, with icing so thick it was like another dessert in itself. On a second stop, I discovered that the brownie was similarly decadent, only more so. Again, only small chunks could be consumed at a time. Though neither the cupcake nor the brownie was overly sweet — and both were quite dense and chocolatey — the frosting on each was too much of a good thing.

This was not the case with the hot chocolate or the sandwiches. We got a caponata de la plata ($7.50), and smoked turkey with brie ($7.95) on our first round. As promised, the caponata included roasted eggplant, onion, olives and capers, but it had been enhanced by dried mission figs, roasted red peppers, and a hit of cocoa and one of Parmesan. As a panini, it was grilled from both sides, so its ingredients were practically melted into the bread (a rosemary focaccia), which was crunchy outside and soft inside.

The smoked turkey was generously spread with small chunks of Brie and honey mustard on a delicious cranberry pecan bread. (The breads at Café Choklad arrive daily from Iggy’s Bread in Cambridge.) This sandwich also comes in a Black Forest ham version.

On our second stop, I had resolved to order the Café Choklad "classic," a salad with mixed baby greens, mandarin oranges, croutons, sun-dried cranberries and toasted pecans, dressed with honey-balsamic and sprinkled with Gorgonzola; So much for resolutions. The S’more sandwich ($6.50) beckoned, as did the chicken BLT ($6.95). The latter was a fine variation on a theme, and the folks at Choklad use mesclun greens, plum tomatoes, very crispy bacon, plenty of mayo, and sliced chicken breast, on herbed focaccia, for a definitive interpretation.

They also get right the unlikely "sandwich" of a S’more between slices of bread. Starting with sliced brioche, they layer inside graham cracker triangles, marshmallows, and semi-sweet chocolate before grilling, which nicely melds the marshmallows to everything else. Most Choklad sandwiches come with baby carrots or potato chips, but this one was joined by Teddy grahams. In the future, I’d recommend a soup or salad before splitting this with a friend, because I had the distinct impression that the Carb Police were hovering nearby, readying for an intervention.

Also tempting are Choklad’s Caesars and Cobbs, or their Shanghai salad, with chicken or fried tofu, Asian greens, julienned jicama, red cabbage, carrots, and baby bok choy, topped with toasted sesame seeds and wonton strips. The "Snabb Lunch" offers a bowl of soup with a half-salad or half-sandwich. Other sandwiches include the grilled Cuban Café with roast pork, Black Forest ham, Swiss cheese, and bread-and-butter pickles; Danish havarti and cucumber with mango chutney and watercress on seven-grain bread; or the H.C. Andersen with paté, bacon, and lingonberries on a brioche, with lettuce and sliced English cucumbers.

Okay, the lingonberries (similar to small cranberries) give away the Swedish heritage of owners Jens and Marie Retlev (the original owners of Redlefsen’s in Bristol). But so do the colors used by the Retlevs to create their dream of a European café near downtown Providence: muted Swedish farmhouse tones of blue, green, red, and lavender accent large white wainscoted spaces and natural wood on the floors and tabletops. Lace curtains and Carl Larsson prints keep the motif going, as do the decoratively inscribed Swedish food words around the top of the circular entryway.

And I haven’t yet returned to the pastries. Marie bakes up at least two kinds of scones, two kinds of muffins (the best I’ve had in a long time; be sure to check out the wild blueberry-peach or the strawberry-chocolate), a maple-pecan Danish, an apple strudel, and a torte or two.

Then there are those chocolates in the case. The entire collection is named after Jens’s chocolate-loving grandmother, Elsa Agell, and many, like the molded chocolate nuns, are imported. However, Jens has begun to develop Choklad’s own line of handmade chocolates, including a delectable Grand Marnier-hazelnut truffle and the Elsa, a dark chocolate truffle perched atop a coconut macaroon. So who says you can’t have your chocolate and eat it, too?