Crispy Red Snapper at Market by Jean-Georges

^{Photo: JOEL VEAK}

Boston isn't a city where the "scene" part of the restaurant scene counts for much: most of us simply don't dress to impress for an evening of fine dining. There are few venues where the body-conscious and fashion-forward feel welcome to mingle, drink, and enjoy a nibble with like-minded folks. When one emerges, that underserved crowd usually mobs it. At the core of this circuit are swank hotels, including the Liberty, the Mandarin Oriental, the Ames, and W Boston. Squeeze through the carefully coiffed, copiously cologned, and slinkily sheathed crowds at Clink, M Bar, Woodward, and the the W Lounge, and you may wonder if anyone ever eats.

That seems a shame, as one of the world's best-known chefs, Jean-Georges Vongerichten, finally planted the flag of his vaunted restaurant empire at Market by Jean-Georges (W Boston, 100 Stuart Street, Boston, 617.310.6790). Its ambiance suits this crowd perfectly: it's chic, modern, and minimalist, a neutral palette flatteringly candlelit. Cocktails are large, icy, and well-made, if not quite at the level of the city's craft revivalists. The menu seems equally aimed at grazers (with crudi and sashimi, thin-crust pizzas, appetizers, and sides) and more serious diners (with dramatically plated fusiony entrees and simply grilled or roasted meats and fish). So you might comfortably snack on a gorgeous sashimi of bay scallops ($16) with avocado in a soy-yuzu dressing, or a carmine oblong of tuna sashimi ($15) crusted with rice-cracker crumbs alongside a fierce saffron-tinged chili-citrus emulsion. More serious appetites could try a breast of chicken ($23), juicy in a crisp crust of Parmesan crumbs; it nests prettily atop slices of salsify (a novel root vegetable reminiscent of fresh artichoke hearts), sharply sauced in lemon-basil butter.

Or you could gravitate to one of Vongerichten's signature fusings of European and Southeast Asian flavors, as in his crispy red snapper ($25) resting atop spaghetti squash (for once not overdone to limpness). Its sauce is described as "chili oil sesame broth" but rather recalls an opaque coconut-milk-based Thai curry with hints of lemongrass, galangal, garlic, and chili. Aside from the note-perfect cooking of the fish, this dish helps you understand how J-G took the stigma out of fusion cuisine, finding harmony in nontraditional East-West pairings that don't feel forced or gimmicky. It's good enough to soothe the sting of the menu's boutique-hotel pricing - good enough that even the W's soigné patrons put aside thoughts of the treadmill for a moment and risk feeling a little snugger than usual in their $200 jeans. It's good enough for us non-beautiful people, too.