Since its opening in 1987, Aquavit has been known for its high-end Swedish-inspired cuisine and its distinctive townhouse dining room on West 54th Street, dominated by a roaring sculptural waterfall. No longer: The restaurant moved in January to a glamorous new spot on East 55th. Tucked into an unimpressive contemporary office building, the multiroom restaurant impresses all the more by contrast: A carefully assembled collection of familiar, attractive Scandinavian furnishings by Panton, Jacobsen, Kjaerholm, and others fit elegantly into the airy, inviting spaces, with smart motifs of slatted wood and cozy curvilinear shapes. The new restaurant is divided into three social tiers, each with its own space and its own menu: the secluded main dining room, where jackets are required and the prix-fixe menus start at $75 a person; the more casual “cafe” area, with new prominence right by the entrance and up a couple of steps; and the lounge and bar, situated halfway along the main hallway, under an undulating wood ceiling. I took a look at the latter two.

The stratification of the different areas is rigidly enforced: Each has its own menu, staff, and reservation log. A small new menu allows diners to enjoy snacks and excellent cocktails while ensconced in the lounge’s graceful Arne Jacobsen armchairs, but they must uproot themselves if they crave a dish that’s served in the cafe. For drinking and limited dining, though, the lounge is a fine option.

The dining offerings in the lounge, which may be expanded in coming months, are four $7 dishes designed for easy, forkless snacking. A pair of gnarl-shelled Kumamoto oysters look lonely in their expansive bed of crushed ice, but they’re quickly gone; a light topping of smoke-tinged cream and golden salmon eggs gives their rich brininess a luxurious, lingering edge. Miniature herring tacos in firm shells, topped with vinegary shreds of pickled onion, transcend their own cleverness with a burst of flavor and a rewarding textural interplay between the bready crunch of the shell and the resilience of the fish. Tiny sandwiches of grilled Vasterbotten cheese (a Cheddarlike Swedish cheese with a sharp, aged flavor, ubiquitous at Aquavit) are hot and comforting. The accompanying creamy yellow musselbroth soup comes, tauntingly, with no spoon, so dipping the sandwiches is the only way to get at it. Two-inch-long hot dogs in little rolls take that comfort theme perhaps a little too far: a dressing of shrimp salad barely offsets the meat’s blandness.

The house-infused aquavits (essentially vodkas), which steep in eye-catching glass vessels around the lounge, are tasty on their own, and also find their way into a variety of excellent cocktails (all $14). The Midnight Sun blends an aquavit infused with grapefruit and lemongrass with Campari and a splash of grapefruit juice; the result is an appetite-stimulating mix of sweet and herbally bitter tastes in a brilliant fuchsia shade. A martini made with elderflower syrup is amethyst-colored and refreshing, with a faint medicinal bite.

For more substantial dining, one must proceed to the conical burnt-orange Panton chairs and courteous service of the cafe. Its stiffly casual feel and careful furnishing gives this room the tone of a midcentury corporate reception room – an effect which piped-in rock and soul classics from the same era only partly dispels.

The smorgasbord ($19) makes a fine starting point for a meal here: it’s a beautiful survey of a dozen morsels from the kitchen. The delicacies, each only a mouthful or two, include: pickled herring in cream sauce with fresh horseradish, sweet, reddish matjes (young) herring, and herring in a lightly bitter curry sauce; sweet gravlax with a black espresso mustard sauce; crumbly hot-smoked salmon; a mound of petite shrimp topped with roe; a single oyster; a hot, delicate Swedish meatball with lingonberries; a nickel-sized slice of smoked pork loin; and a yellow wedge of Vasterbotten cheese. The servers urgently sell an accompanying flight of three flavored aquavits ($17, or $7 apiece), which do make a fine accomplice to the fish. Aquavit infusions run from the essential, as in classic, nuanced caraway augmented with fennel and smoothly pungent horseradish, to the novel – pumpkin, pineapple-basil – to the prosaic, like cranberry and lime-ginger.

Main courses in the cafe include a few fish offerings and a few meats, updated creations from a Scandinavian palette with a healthy regard for tradition. The rich, harmonious smoothness of many dishes comes from a hearty use of butter and oils, suitable for a northern winter. A thick skate filet ($23), with a golden, luscious surface and light, sweet flesh, is doused in a buttery mustard sauce, and a scoop of earthy, creamy yellow-pea puree only adds to the richness. A salty bed of sinewy cooked nettles complements the fibrous meat of the fish. The beautiful, intense color of hot smoked salmon ($18) anticipates its strong fishy flavor, but not its crumbly, well-cooked texture, which the spicy apple broth in which it is immersed counteracts somewhat. A huge, sparsely adorned sausage of veal and pork ($19) has little seasoning, but ample flavor regardless. Much better, though, is an entree of pork loin ($20), cut into thin, smooth slices, moistened with a savory cream sauce, and topped with crisp-grilled asparagus spears.

Chef Marcus Samuelsson’s desserts are inventive and elegant, with attractively layered flavors. A small chocolate tart ($10), served hot, is dense and slightly salty, with an accompanying dab of parsley-flavored yogurt; three little roasted pears ($9) sauced with a glogg reduction are chewy and intense. In addition to the cocktail abundance, Aquavit offers hundreds of fine wines by the bottle, including a lovely lime-scented torrontes from Michel Torino ($10) that cuts right through the butter. A panoply of beers ($9), including Hitachino’s white ale and the classic Carlsberg, can also provide a bracing contrast to the hearty food.

The updating of Aquavit has broadened its appeal: Diners looking for a more relaxed experience can enjoy the particular culinary wonders of the lounge or cafe, while the main dining room’s exclusive boardroom like appeal is enhanced by its stately detachment from the mob. A feeling of intimacy still eludes the smart design – its spaces, despite their grace, have a sterile publicness – but the new restaurant’s handsome luxury is vastly more inviting than the old Aquavit ever was.

Aquavit, 65 E. 55th St., 212-307-7311.