Have you noticed how Jacques Torres has become virtually synonymous with upscale chocolate in this town?

I have nothing against Mr. Torres. I’ve enjoyed his DUMBO shop for years, and my one visit to his Chocolate Haven factory/cafe in SoHo, which opened last year, was very pleasant. And like many people I know, I keep a container of his amazing hot chocolate mix – so rich that it almost qualifies as more of a pudding than a beverage – in my cupboard.

But there’s such a thing as overkill. Mr. Torres is obviously a major talent, and I don’t begrudge him his success, but his ascension to rock-star status in the confectionary world has gotten out of hand. He’s quoted in countless articles, appears regularly on TV, and seems to have been anointed, almost by acclimation, to the post of Supreme Chocolate Deity. At least the food world’s other rock stars – Mario Batali, Bobby Flay, and that crowd – have each other to contend with. But Mr. Torres is treated as though he’s the only gourmet chocolatier on the planet.

In Park Slope alone, there are three shops that sell Mr. Torres’s chocolates. So when I heard a new dessert cafe was opening in the neighborhood, called the Chocolate Room, I didn’t pay it much mind. “Another place selling Torres truffles,” I thought to myself. “Whoop-de-do.”

Happily, that’s not the case. The Chocolate Room has chosen to align itself with Fritz Knipschildt, a Danish chocolatier who works out of Connecticut. “We discovered him at a trade show,” one of the shop’s owners told me. “With so many people, it’s all, ‘Torres, Torres, Torres,’ but we wanted to have something different. And we thought Fritz’s chocolates tasted best.”

For the record, Mr. Knipschildt is hardly a novice who needed to be “discovered.” His confections are carried by Dean & Deluca and Williams-Sonoma, and he’s gotten his share of press cover age. But Mr. Torres’s stature has become so outsized that almost any other chocolatier seems like an endearingly plucky underdog by comparison.

More importantly, Mr. Knipschildt’s chocolates ($40 a pound, or about $1.20 apiece) are spectacular. Each one has a woman’s name – a pretentious device, yes, but at least it makes it easy to run down some of the standouts in his collection: Madeleine is a classic dark-chocolate truffle rolled in bitter cocoa powder; Jennifer is a marzipan/pistachio truffle, coated in dark chocolate and dusted with chopped pistachio; Carrie features caramelized hazelnut paste on the inside, milk chocolate and chopped hazelnuts on the outside; and the heart-shaped Donna has blackcurrant ganache coated with dark chocolate.

Mr. Knipschildt also favors oddly flavored fillings that don’t always seem like natural pairings with chocolate, including Patricia (red chili and tangerine) and Keiko (raspberry and pink peppercorns). Some of these worked for me, some didn’t. But craftsmanship and freshness are clearly evident throughout his product line, so look at the descriptions in the shop’s display case and go with your instincts. If a given flavor combination sounds good to you, you’ll probably like it.

There’s also an assortment of Mr. Knipschildt’s dessert sauces and syrups, one of which is particularly noteworthy: a bottle of mocha and Irish cream syrup ($10). I’ve yet to find anything that isn’t improved by a spoonful of this, including my open mouth. Not to be missed.

For sit-down customers, there’s a short dessert menu. The strongest entry here, oddly enough, is the least chocolate-centric of the bunch: a warm lemon buttermilk souffle ($6.50), which strikes just the right balance between tart and sweet. A frozen white chocolate and raspberry mousse ($6.50) is another not-very-chocolaty winner, thanks to a gorgeously smooth consistency and a clean, fruity flavor. The appealing pyramid shape doesn’t hurt, either.

Dark chocolate fans should head straight for the fondue for two ($12), which is anchored by a bowl of wonderfully bittersweet melted chocolate. It comes with a tray of fun dippables, including strawberries, sliced banana and pineapple, and some really wonderful homemade marshmallows that will completely reconfigure your concept of what a marshmallow can be (be sure to eat one without the chocolate – they’re that good).

Chocolate crepes are wrapped around caramelized pear slices ($6.50), striking a good middle ground between chocolaty and fruity. But as an obsessive fan of all things mocha, I was most excited to try the espresso chocolate flan ($6.50). Unfortunately, it’s rather straightforwardly sweet, with little of the multifaceted depth one expects from the intersection of chocolate and coffee. Too bad.

There are two kinds of hot chocolate available. The milk-chocolate version ($4.50) is mild and unremarkable, but the dark-chocolate version ($4) is special, full of bittersweet complexity. Oddly, it comes in a much smaller mug than its milk chocolate counterpart, as if one were coffee and the other espresso. If the proprietors are thinking that the dark version is too strong for customers to finish a full cup, they should think again – it’s delicious enough to merit a full portion, and anything less seems miserly.

Speaking of beverage problems, there isn’t a single soft drink or juice available – those who want a cold drink are left with no option but water (a particularly short-sighted policy when you consider that some people will want to bring their kids). The wait staff gets that pained, “We know, we know…” look when asked about this, so let’s hope management wises up and expands the beverage roster.

Other expansions are afoot as well – on one visit I was told that ice cream will soon be available. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a sundae that makes use of that great Irish cream syrup.

The Chocolate Room, 86 Fifth Ave., Brooklyn, 718-783-2900, www.thechocolateroombrooklyn.com.