I'm an Audi fan, maybe even a little nutty about Audis. My first All-Star thought after BMW 3-series was Audi S5. I had just driven the S5 test car, but it was in the office the week everyone - but Joe Lorio and I - was at the Frankfurt auto show. We had it to ourselves for five days. Actually, I think I drove it the entire week. That must have been the problem. No other editor or freelance contributor had driven it.
No one else had the sumptuous experience of slipping in behind the wheel and seeing the exquisitely sculpted dash for which Audi designers have become renowned. Every instrument binnacle, every gauge, every button, every knob is a work of art, a purposeful expression of luxury and precision. The buttons are not only beveled, but rows of buttons are beveled in sync, creating a single organic sweep across the dash. The simplicity of the MMI controller and the neat array of four buttons around it belie the complexity of the electronic functions (audio, navigation, climate control, other vehicle systems) it so naturally manages.
No one else had experienced the fantastically supportive drivers' seats, the perfectly placed foot pedals, the sublime gearing of the six-speed manual transmission, and the rush of power from the 345-hp, DOHC thirty-two-valve aluminum V-8 engine. Blessed with permanent four-wheel-drive (the sort of four-wheel drive that has nothing to do with dirt roads and everything to do with maximum high-performance tarmac traction), the S5 can manage sub-five-second 0-60 mph times despite its nearly two-ton curb weight. It's fast like a freight train, gorgeously sleek, and wears its strikingly large chrome grille more confidently, more perfectly than any Audi before it.
It feels like it's worth about 50% more than its sub-$60,000 (loaded) tag.
This is the car for which I long. My Private All-Star.
