Denise Cobb, cofounder of the Naples Winter Wine Festival, knew that the Rolls-Royce Phantom built specifically for her annual charity auc
These may well be the best of times for Bibiana Boerio, the well-credentialed, tough, and spirited Pennsylvania accountant who has inherit
Oscar Wilde argued that the only excuse for making something ugly is that it be useful, while the sole justification for an utterly useles
The Chrysler 300, as proven by multiple sightings of black, white, and blue variants on the roads of Napa Valley, cannot claim exclusivity
Not long ago, Land Rover—with its Range Rover and Discovery—held a monopoly on the luxury SUV market.
Herb Harris, one of the Car of the Year participants, steered the Lotus Elise into the parking lot at the Napa Valley Reserve, killed the
My favorite modern Lamborghini is the Gallardo.
Bentley’s 2005 Arnage T is a lovely leftover, a mechanical souvenir from distant days when Rolls-Royce was its builder and any thought of
Commonly referred to as the C6, the sixth-generation Corvette had been the subject of much speculation over the last few years.
Excepting the exotic SLR, the bad boy in the Mercedes-Benz convertible clubhouse is the SL55’s bigger brother, the SL65.
While most of our Car of the Year guests descended upon Meadowood on a Wednesday, a few, including myself, reached Napa the previous day.
Equating a Cadillac with one of GM’s economy marques might seem like slander, but Car of the Year participant Bill Harlan intended it as a
From the outset, I was impressed with the appearance of BMW’s new-Bangled 7 Series sedan.
If the meaning of the Maserati Quattroporte’s descriptor is not obvious, it is Italian for “four doors,” but it does not refer to somethin
Whenever I get my hands on the latest 911, I cannot help but compare it with its predecessor.
Once in a rare while there appears an automobile that has it all and will go the distance, and then go beyond the farthest horizon.
When he was 12 years old, Michael Furman snapped what he thought was his first automotive photograph.
Pursuing the Ferrari Enzo up Vermont’s Mount Equinox, I ignore the snarls, pops, whines, crackles, and roars reverberating off the windscr