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2016 Bentley Bentayga First Drive [w/video]

There was once a barrier that separated our Arcadian, four-dimensional space from an uncanny cosmos where a $229,100 SUV makes irrefutable business sense. That wall is gone, and the Bentley Bentayga broke it. We're accustomed to powerful SUVs. The Mercedes-Benz G65 AMG makes the Earth weep on account of its 621 horsepower and 738 pound-feet of torque. The Bentayga is shy of those figures, with 21 fewer horses and 74 fewer pound-feet. We're also accustomed to quick SUVs; the Porsche Cayenne Turbo S hits 60 miles per hour in just 3.8 seconds. The Bentayga runs that race 0.2 seconds slower. And of course, we are accustomed to luxurious SUVs that fear no obstacle or load. The Range Rover Autobiography can swim its leathers and veneers through 35.4 inches of water, surmount nearly 12 inches when toiling off-road, and tow 7,716 pounds. The Bentayga can 'only' manage 19.6 inches of water, 'only' gets to 9.64 inches on its tippy toes, and is 'only' rated to tow 7,714 pounds. None of these facts are listed to harp on the Bentayga. It isn't Bentley's way to make rank by being the best in every category. Instead, the Crewe brand brings all the boys to the yard by merely being excellent across the board. The Continental GT isn't superlative at any one thing, but no other vehicle that can carry four people is as fast and as capable and as dynamic, and only Phantom-level Rolls-Royces can touch it for luxury. The Bentayga is not the Continental GT of SUVs, it is "the Bentley of SUVs." But here's an important clarification: The Bentayga is not the Continental GT of SUVs, it is "the Bentley of SUVs." The automaker describes the mission as, "driving, luxury, performance." The interior advances the current design language with a two-piece instrument panel – an upper portion that slides through the center console in a "U" shape, and a lower portion that connects the console to the center tunnel. Bentley poses this as a riff on its flying wing badge, but it actually comes from interior designer Darren Day's wish to fit an IP with a steeper rake. The size of an instrument panel is limited by the width of the door openings because the dashboard doesn't go in until after the body is welded together. Day wanted passengers to be able to rest their legs on the buttresses tying the IP to the center tunnel, but his one-piece design was too large to fit through the doors.

The myth and mystery of The Bentley Cocktail

The other day, we were trying to find ways to delight a visiting relative who requested a cocktail made with apple brandy (don't ask), and after poring through Mr. Boston and The Playboy Bartender's Guide we were fortunate enough to come across a recipe. This particular concoction piqued our interest not just because it was a means to get rid of that bottle of Calvados that had been malingering on our bar cart, drawing fruit flies and quizzical scorn, since it was gifted to us at the launch of the Peugeot 407 in 2004. It was because of the automotive connection. (Duh.) The cocktail is called The Bentley, and it has a sexy, if probably apocryphal, origin story. According to the legend, the Bentley Boys – rich, Jazz Age, car-loving, British playboy racers – invented the drink after their first of five Le Mans victories, in 1924. Canadian-born WWI hero and Olympic swordsman John Duff and local English Bentley test driver and Bentley 3-Liter Super Sport owner Frank Clement were the only British team and vehicle in this second-ever endurance race, surrounded by more than three dozen French drivers and cars (and a couple of Germans). But despite typical British maladies ­– broken shocks, seized lug nuts, and a dysfunctional gearshift – and a slew of fires, punctures, and chassis-snapping wrecks amongst the field, they persevered. Arriving at their celebratory party at their club near their adjoining apartments in London's exclusive Mayfair neighborhood, they discovered that all of the alcohol had been consumed, with the exception of Calvados and Dubonnet. Mixing these together in equal parts, and adding some bitters, they allegedly invented a drink to settle their affluent nerves. Like most folkloric explanations for the existence of some gross cocktails – the wisecrack-inspired Tom Collins, the whole-cloth-concocted Seelbach – the tale seemed as compelling to us as it was ridiculous. Fortunately, among our friends are many with mastery in mixology, so we decided to put the mystery (and recipe) to them. "To be honest, I'd never even heard of the cocktail," said Tokyo-based international beverage expert Nick Coldicott, the most skeptical of our potation pundits. "And that story smells fishy to me. It seems unlikely that a party venue would have enough of a booze collection to have Calvados and Dubonnet, but not enough whisky or gin or champagne to see the party out.

Bentley re-creates one-of-a-kind sports sedan destroyed in 1939

Bentley's Mulliner division specializes in making one-off (or few-off) projects for clients willing to foot the bill. They're the folks you'd want to talk to if you want a long-wheelbase Flying Spur, a Bentayga-based dually pickup, or anything in between. The division only works on new models, but it stepped outside of its comfort zone to re-create a one-of-a-kind Bentley manufactured and destroyed in 1939. The project is part of Bentley's on-going centennial celebration, and finishing it in time was easier said than done. It made building a concept car like the EXP 100 GT look like assembling a Lego kit. The original Corniche disappeared after getting bombed by the German army, and a majority of the people who saw it in person are dead, so the men and women tasked with resurrecting it only had a handful of period, black-and-white photographs and technical drawings to work with. The final product looks stunning, and Bentley claims it's identical to the original in every way. Parts like the chromed headlight bezels, the droplet-shaped fenders, and the wooden dashboard were exclusive to the Corniche, so they had to be manufactured from scratch using the correct materials, and the right production techniques. The British firm could have saved itself the trouble of re-creating this unique part of its history if another car hadn't pulled out in front of it 80 years ago. Bentley made the original Corniche during tumultuous times as it explored the possibility of releasing a more powerful variant of the Mark V scheduled to make its debut in October 1939. It asked French designer Georges Paulin to draw a futuristic, streamlined body, and it commissioned Paris-based coachbuilder Carrosserie Vanvooren to build it using thinner-than-normal steel to save weight. The Corniche lapped the Brooklands track for the first time in May 1939 and quickly reached over 100 mph, an impressive speed at the time. Testing continued in rural France, where the big Bentley blended in as well as a flying saucer. In August 1939, one of the company's test drivers swerved to avoid another car, rolled, and wrapped the aerodynamic front end around an unsuspecting tree. Bentley separated the body and the chassis. It immediately shipped the chassis to its headquarters in Crewe, England, and curiously asked a local shop to repair the body instead of sending it back to Vanvooren in Paris.