The surprise snowstorm that buried the Northeast over the 2010 New Year’s weekend was yet another reminder of the importance of all-wheel-drive for those who must occasionally do battle with the elements. Its benefits are both actual — better traction for slippery conditions — and psychological — reducing the worry about getting stuck.

Only a few manufacturers have really exploited all-wheel-drive because it adds weight and cost. But where an automaker like Audi is at the high end of the price spectrum, Subaru is aiming squarely at the heart of the market, where it is making a big splash.

After years of laboring in relative obscurity, 2009 was a breakout year for Subaru. The automaker was one of the very few to see its sales actually increase, and the latest Outback was selected by a panel of automotive journalists as one of the three finalists for North American truck (read: SUV) of the year.

Back in the day, the Outback was little more than a tarted-up version of Subaru’s Legacy wagon, with lower body cladding, higher ground clearance, and a stiffer price. To make the most of its aspirations as an off-road-going SUV, actor Paul Hogan reprised his backcountry Aussie character to promote its capabilities.

No more jokes about shrimp on the barbie, please. Hogan was retired several seasons ago, and so was the badge-engineered Outback. The Legacy was discontinued, and the Outback has morphed into a proper crossover SUV by gaining four inches of height.

The change is all to the good. Besides getting a good chunk of additional interior space, the Outlook actually looks better as a cube than it did as a lozenge. For perhaps the first time, Subaru can accurately be described as a styling leader.

The exterior has a nicely chiseled, up-to-date appearance without being trendy, while the interior is a model of high-quality finishes delivered in a durable package. The instrument panel, in particular, is a model of transparency and functionality.

Some reviewers have complained about the impact of the extra height on Outlook handling. But it is inconspicuous under normal driving conditions, and those who want a hot-shoe Subaru are anyway more likely to gravitate to the turbocharged Impreza WRX.

The 2.5 liter 170-horsepower engine provides plenty of pep, though don’t ask for zero to 60 times. Most Subaru owners don’t care. They are more interested in functionality, quality, and value. With an as-tested price of $27,780, my Premium model — made at Subaru’s plant in Lafayette, Indiana, delivered on all three counts.

Take that, Crocodile Dundee.

With the Copenhagen summit on climate change underway, driving the latest overweight offering from Land Rover would seem to put me in the camp of the global warming deniers.

After all, how can you justify making your daily rounds in a vehicle that weighs nearly three tons and gets just 12 miles per gallon in city driving, if you believe the planet is in danger of overheating?

Land Rover’s LR4, formerly known as the LR3 and called Discovery everywhere else in the world, is one of the last of its breed, — a SUV assembled with antique body-on-frame construction that is engineered for extreme off-roading.

That’s all fine if you are out patrolling the Serengeti on a regular basis, but less admirable if you are cruising shopping centers in Beverly Hills.

With the U.S. imposing 2016 standards of 35 mpg and Europe setting regulations on carbon dioxide emissions, that kind of excess would seem to make the life expectancy of the LR4 a limited one.

Ignoring societal and regulatory considerations, the LR4 measures up quite well. A finalist for the North American Truck of the Year award, it is more modern and refined than any Land Rover in memory.

The driver sits up high in a captain’s chair with an armrest. Unlike in earlier models, the pedals and stacks respond with a reasonable degree of effort.

The new 5.0 liter 375-hp aluminum alloy V-8, which is also used in Jaguars, provides plenty of pep, propelling this seven-passenger vehicle to 60 miles per hour in a brisk 7.5 seconds. The interior is both functional and attractive and aligns Land Rover with international standards. There are no more switches that move in an opposite direction from the rest of the world’s.

Some of the information screens, though were difficult to decipher — especially while traveling at 60 mph — and the trip computer appeared incapable of delivering a fuel consumption analysis.

An early-season snowfall limited the opportunity to evaluate the LR4’s legendary off-road capability but it did just fine on paved highways and the permanent four-wheel drive system handled slippery roads without a hiccup.

Assuming you are willing to brave the scorn of angry environmentalists, the LR4 will set you back $48,100 (including transportation). As tested, with the seven-seat LUX passage, the tab came to $58,415.

If that is too rich to contemplate, think of the LR4, like a Patek Philippe watch, as a possession to be passed on to future generations.

That’s because by the time this model runs its course, the brawny SUV segment likely will be obsolete. There almost certainly will not be an LR5.

A new Porsche is a big deal, and an all-new Porsche — especially one with four doors and a hatchback — is practically an historic event.

So I invited three car-savvy acquaintances — a pair of BMW owners and the proud possessor of an Audi S4 — to help me evaluate the Panamera Turbo.

They loved the car. But they wondered, as did I, what you do with a 4,300-pound vehicle that purportedly has a top speed of 188 miles per hour and carries a sticker price of $145,000?

Commuting between Munich and Stuttgart on the speed-limitless autobahn is one thing; dodging state troopers on the Taconic Parkway in New York is quite another.

At least we demonstrated the practicality of the Panamera. This is an unfussy car you can drive every day, as long as you can find a place to safely park it.

The car seats four adults comfortably, as advertised. All-wheel-drive means it doesn’t have to sit in the garage on snowy days. And aside from the ignition switch in its traditional spot on the left side of the steering wheel, the controls are straight-forward and glitch-free. My three German car-owners felt right at home.

From the curb, the Panamera appears a bit awkward. Style is subjective, but the front end looked uncomfortably reminiscent of sportier Porsches and the flanks excessively busy. The fast-back rear end, however, is refined and sophisticated — reminiscent of Jaguar’s XK-E coupes.

The one surprise is the size of the Panamera. It is longer and wider than a Mercedes CLS — probably its closest competitor — so care is needed in tight spaces, and the backup camera comes in handy when parking.

All that mass becomes apparent on the highway, where the Panamera feels quiet, solid, and very, very fast but in no sense like a sports car. It will get you where you want to go, but without the buzz you feel in, say, a 911convertible.

From the driver’s seat, you feel a sense of power. The Panamera turns heads and responds to every directional input. One driver commented on the fast tip-in of the accelerator that made the Panamera feel even quicker; another reflected on the peace of mind that comes with knowing that you can pass anything at almost any time.

Porsche plans to make 20,000 Panameras annually, with one third of them making their way to the U.S. Exactly how customers react at a time when the economy is still wobbly and trophy possessions are allegedly out of favor will be interesting to watch.

As for my test-drive trio, they all applauded Porsche for its achievement but were happy to return to the lesser technical and financial challenges of their respective vehicles. Cohabitating with a Panamera requires a bigger commitment than they were ready to make.

My Transit Connect was like the attractive person you see across a room to whom you are immediately drawn. But when you get up close, you find that person is still attractive — yet not quite as perfect as you first imagined.

And so it was with this unique, futuristic vehicle. More and more Americans like their vehicles to be useful as well as stylish and the Transit Connect is more useful than any vehicle I can think off.

With room for five (thanks to a full-width second seat), loads of storage space, an extra-high roof, and easy-opening cargo doors, this vehicle lives for Saturday morning errands or the stop-and-go demands of a small business. It is a Honda Element raised to a higher level of carrying capacity; a PT Cruiser with an extra helping of mojo.

But my ardor began to fade after some time behind the wheel. Creeping through rainy-day, rush-hour traffic on New York’s Henry Hudson parkway, the TC felt right at home, its oversize windshield giving me a clear view of the action.

Once I encountered the twistier Saw Mill Parkway, though, it was a different story. The TC handled the curves all right, but the hills were too much of a challenge for the 2.0-liter engine and four-speed transmission. The TC was constantly downshifting and seemed to struggle, even though I was carrying nothing close to a full load.

Trying to change radio frequencies as I left New York was another disappointment. The touch-screen tuning seemed to resist my finger pokes, and trying to tune in distant stations required punching their frequencies into a virtual keyboard — not a recipe for smooth driving in stop-and-go conditions.

Ford CEO Alan Mulally has instructed his product planners to create common driver interfaces on all Ford vehicles just like the cockpit controls on in Boeing airplanes. I hope that the TC touch screen isn’t spreading throughout the model line.

Otherwise, the TC felt rock solid, returned decent gas mileage (its combined EPA estimate is 23 miles per gallon) and carried a reasonable base sticker price (including delivery) of just over $23,000 (my as-tested vehicle came in at $24, 975).

One of the shortlisted vehicles for the North American Truck of the Year award (voted by some 50 automotive journalists), the TC gets high marks for functionality and originality. It creates a whole new segment — call it “compact hyper-functional utility vehicle” or “super high-roof stuff carrier.”

With a rear cargo space large enough to sleep in, it should be popular with ski bums, surfers, and college students who can’t drive home from the party. But until it gets a little more get-up-and-go, the TC is likely to remain more alluring from afar.

One of my rules for covering the auto industry is to never judge a new car based on the manufacturer’s preview.

It is all too easy at these events to get swept up in an atmosphere of artificial excitement. You have been flown to some distant resort in California or Arizona in the middle of winter for a test drive. You are seeing a car for the first time, weeks before the general public. And you are surrounded by engineers, executives, and public relations operatives whose jobs depend on generating excitement for the vehicle at hand.

What car ever looks bad under these circumstances?

Last spring, I violated my own rule after driving the new Toyota Prius gas electric hybrid at a long-lead event in Napa Valley. I loved the car. For one thing, I was preconditioned to treat Toyota’s technical achievements with shock and awe. After I succeeded in hyper-miling the Prius to in excess of 70 miles per gallon, I was hooked. Talk of a $23,000 base price for the technological marvel was a bonus.

Well, six months later and I’m driving a Prius on my normal weekend test route. In the cold light of day, all those techno touches seem more curious than clever. The extreme aero shape of the body has left the instrument panel several feet away and made me feel as if I am driving from the middle of the car. The transmission shifter on the dash requires a re-education and some of the controls are bizarrely located (the seat heater switch is located down by my knee and completely out of sight).

That $23,000 starting price, meanwhile, has become a mirage. I have borrowed a car from one of the high trim level series, and the addition of the Advanced Technology Package (dynamic cruise control, pre-collision system, intelligent parking assist) has jacked the price up to $32,771.

After logging more than 200 miles on my normal test route, I was getting a smidgen over 50 miles per gallon – good but nowhere near my 70-plus mpg at the preview.

I have discovered I don’t really drive the Prius – I guide it. The combination of the awkward seating position, weird controls, pokey acceleration (zero to 60 in 9.8 seconds), and elongated aero shape makes me feel like I am traveling in a space capsule rather than riding in a car.

None of this is a knock on Toyota. It has created the world’s most popular – make that the world’s ONLY popular – gas electric hybrid, delivered on its fuel economy promise, and put it on sale at a reasonable price.

But it is a reminder to potential buyers that Prius is something special and doesn’t look, touch, or feel like a traditional gas-powered car.

And it is a reminder to me to never, never judge a car based on a manufacturer’s preview.

The supercar has been a struggle to sell, which means potential bargains for interested buyers.

Among the more exotic niches of the car business is the marketing of supercars.

The cars, which carry price tags in the mid-six figures, require a tricky marketing balance. If they become too scarce, speculators move in, driving up prices and making the cars unavailable to enthusiasts. But if too many examples show up on the market, they lose the appeal of scarcity and potential buyers move on to the next big thing.

Consider the case of Mercedes’s SLR McLaren. Based on its spec sheet, the car should have been a home run when it appeared in 2004. It had a supercharged V-8 engine that put out 617 horsepower and got the car from zero to 60 mph in 3.6 seconds; its top speed was 207 miles per hour. It sported an advanced carbon fiber body and retro scissor-style doors. The SLR also had a history behind it. It was said to have been inspired by the Mercedes 300 SLR of 1955.

But the market for supercars was weakening when the SLR came out, and the car received some middling reviews. There were complaints about its styling and its function — whether it was really a sports car or a grand tourer in disguise. Mercedes had planned to sell 500 SLRs a year at $495,000 each, but after 2005, it wasn’t able to achieve that goal. It ended production of the car in 2009 — two years ahead of schedule.

Today, the SLR is unloved and unwanted. According to one dealer, there are currently 26 unsold cars at the port in Los Angeles. Based on last year’s selling rate, that would be a three-month supply. A Mercedes spokesperson says that number is too high — she says “only a handful of SLRs are there” (though there may be more in East Coast ports).

If you want to buy an SLR for Christmas, now is the time for a bargain. Mercedes says that if you group all the wholesale and retail dealer allowances together, you could knock the price down by $175,000. A dealer says the number is actually higher: $250,000 off the sticker.

But if you think the SLR has become damaged goods, never fear: a new Mercedes supercar is on the way. The 2011 SLS AMG, introduced at the Frankfurt Motor Show in September, gets a 571 horsepower V-8 that will fling the car to 62 mph in 3.8 seconds, with a top speed of 197 miles per hour. In addition, it has genuine butterfly doors. The estimated price is $225,000 or less than half the price of the SLR.

Caveat emptor.

Are better times coming? Ford seems to think so, based on the design and features of the new Lincoln MKT.

When you want to take the psychic temperature of the Ford Motor Co., all you have to do is look at the latest offerings from Lincoln.

When times are tough, the company makes little effort to distinguish luxury-pretender Lincoln from its homelier Ford origins. A new grille here, redesigned tail lamps there, and you have summarized the major differences between, say, the Ford Edge and Lincoln MKX.

But when better times are coming, Ford digs deeper into its product development budget to more fully differentiate Lincoln and add more luxury features.

Cue the 2010 MKT. While it’s based on the utilitarian Ford Flex people-mover, the MKT looks nothing like it, with a new body panels and unique design flourishes like the upswept kink in the rear fenders. For proof, park the MKT in your driveway and you won’t find anybody whispering “poor relation.” At 17 ¼ feet long and weighing nearly 5,000 pounds, MKT is an imposing piece of automotive iron — half a foot longer and 350 pounds heavier than the Flex.

Evaluating design is a subjective matter. I like the MKT’s split waterfall grille, but found the tailgate-wide rear insignia/taillight treatment a bit extravagant.

Inside, the interior is a masterful combination of luxury and utility, marred only by retro-styled instruments that are hard to read. And watch out for the Collision Warning with Brake Support system. Pull up too close to the car in front of you and a dozen LED lights start flashing in the windshield while the radio signal is damped and alarms blare. You’d think you were at Three Mile Island during a meltdown.

Reviewers have praised the performance of the MKT — and with good reason. The optional EcoBoost V-6 engine with twin turbochargers lights up quickly with the push of a button and gets the car underway so smoothly you would swear you are driving a V-8. Another plus: There is no turbo lag and no turbo whine. An additional EcoBoost payoff comes from fuel economy: The MKT with all-wheel-drive gets 16 mpg city/22 mpg highway, about the same as a Flex AWD with a standard V-6 that produces only 265 hp. I confirmed the highway figure during a 100-mile run.

All that technology, performance, and carrying capacity for seven carries a significant price tag. The MKT’s base price is $49,995 (including delivery), making it the second most expensive vehicle in the Lincoln lineup after the Navigator. My optioned-up test vehicle was listed at a stiff $57,180.

At least you likely won’t see yourself coming and going. Lincoln is still a low-volume brand and Edmund’s reports that MKT sales are off to a slow start.

Yet it is good to see Lincoln acting like a real luxury car contender, and better still to know that Ford sees bluer skies ahead.

For as long as I have been writing about cars, Acura, the move-up division of Honda, has been struggling to create an identity for itself.

Part of the problem is its positioning. Unlike Lexus and Infiniti, Acura was never conceived as a full-bore attack on the German luxury carmakers, but rather a step up for Honda buyers. So while Acura markets cars in small, medium, and large sizes, just like the Germans, they are several notches lower in price and prestige.

Another part of the problem is perceived exclusivity. Two-thirds of Acura’s current passenger car lineup is based on the Honda Accord sold in Europe, a heritage that isn’t going to appeal to status seekers. Over the years, Acura’s styling has been appropriately conservative without being distinctive. And its nomenclature is forgettable, with the model range designations going mysteriously from TSX to TL to RL.

So while Acura is three years older than Lexus or Infiniti, it hasn’t been able to use those extra years to establish a higher profile. Even difficult economic conditions haven’t helped, despite Acura’s generally lower price points and superior gas mileage. Its sales have fallen 34% this year, more than its luxury competitors.

A car that could raise Acura’s recognition factor is the TL, the mid-size in the lineup. Powered by a 305-horsepower V-6 and available with a six-speed manual transmission, it has been praised by enthusiasts for its smooth shifting and zesty performance.

I was less impressed. When navigating through a six-speed gearbox, it is helpful to have an indicator of the instrument panel to tell you what gear you are in; Audis do but this Acura did not. The TL also seemed to reward higher-rev shift points than I am accustomed to using. Down in the lower revs, I found myself downshifting frequently on hills despite the reputedly torquey characteristics of the engine

What I did like was the TL’s design: aggressive but not so much as to scare small children. The paint job, in a deep radiant black, sets a standard for this class of car. The interior was as handsome as Honda products ever get, and the instruments were characteristically clear in function and easy to use.

Honda likes to position the TL as a rival for the BMW five-series. With an as-tested price of $44,195, that would make the Acura a bargain. I’d rather think of it as a range-topping Accord with a special appearance package. And I would very much like to test one with an automatic transmission that does the shifting for you to fully appreciate this impressive machine.

In my experience, all proper German cars come in two colors: silver and black. There is a reason for this, as there is in all things German. These colors denote a seriousness of purpose, obliviousness to fashion, and a sticker price that takes your breath away.

But when I asked Mercedes to review an example of its new E-class line, the car I received was not silver or black but red — “Mars Red” in official Mercedes-ese.

I was confused. Was Mercedes trying to send me a message that times are changing at the world’s oldest automaker? Or had all the silver and black cars been snapped up by my competitors at Motor Trend, Edmunds, and Jalopnik?

Let’s review the evidence.

The E-class coupe replaces the two-door in the Mercedes lineup formerly known as the CLK and becomes part of the larger, more expensive E-class line. That’s one change.

Physically, the car harks back to its CLK roots but psychically, its aura has changed. The dimensions of the E-coupe platform are identical to the smaller, less-expensive C-class yet the car has the fittings, feel, and solidity of a larger E-class sedan. You could say the E-coupe merges C-class specifications with E-class ambiance. That’s another change.

My test car, which was equipped with a 5.5-liter, 382 hp V8, bristled with as much muscle as I wanted to handle, and the interior was top shelf. On the road, the coupe displayed the ride and dynamics of an E-class, combined with the handling and fuel economy of a C-class. In Mercedes tradition, comfort and predictability took precedence over razor-sharp reactions.

Fuel economy was impressive. Under the EPA driving cycle, the E-coupe is expected to deliver between 19 mpg and 27 mpg on the highway, and I consistently hit in the high end of the range.

That was good for the environment but not for my bank balance, since the premium grades of gasoline that Mercedes recommends run 10 cents to 20 cents more a gallon than regular.

The final piece of evidence showing that the E-coupe represents new thinking was the price. Mercedes prices its coupes aggressively but this was still a surprise. The base sticker price of the smallish E-coupe is $54,650 , only $1,650 less than the larger E-class sedan.

My car was equipped with the premium package (navi system, upgraded audio, rear view camera), Distronic Plus package (smart cruise control, parking guidance), appearance package (wheels, seats) and the wood/leather steering wheel package.

All together, that pushed up the total retail price to $67,125. That’s a handsome price for a handsome car in these economically distressed times.

By way of comparison, for the same money, you could move up two classes in size and pick up a used S-class sedan — a proper silver or black one.

If General Motors is able to convince the world that it can build cars that people actually want to buy, it has to start with the new models it launches over the next several months. Taxpayers, customers, and journalists all will be watching carefully.

In a sense, the attention is unfair. These are Rick Wagoner cars, planned and developed three years ago under the former CEO. Fritz Henderson cars won’t be coming along until 2012.

Still, GM has been arguing for some time that it builds world-class automobiles; all that’s missing now is its ability to convince convincing customers about the validity of that claim.

The 2010 Buick LaCrosse perfectly illustrates the problem. Stick a Lexus or an Acura label on it, and you would have a competitive car, one you would take on a second honeymoon to Napa Valley.

Let people know it is a Buick, however, and they expect to see it parked in front of Applebee’s for the early-bird special.

Badging aside, the LaCrosse ranks as my favorite GM sedan. Driving around the Detroit area, I was never disappointed.

What did I like about it?

First of all, the price. Even with 18-inch chrome wheels and other options totaling $1,850, the LaCrosse carried a sticker price of just $31,495. That’s a really good value for an entry-luxe mid-size sedan.

Second is the exterior design. With its high belt line, fast sloping rear end, and tasteful chrome accents, the LaCrosse is international in character and American in spirit. I even don’t hate the porthole simulations on the hood.

Third is the interior, bright and classy without being garish. You can argue about the unnecessary stitching, plastic wood, and overly busy instrument stack. But overall I felt comfortable and pampered, without any pandering.

Over the road, the Buick behaves like a large front-wheel sedan for aging baby boomers. Performance from the 3.0 liter V-6 is adequate — 60 mph arrives in eight seconds. For those who want more power, a 3.6 liter V-6 is available. The cabin is well insulated to screen out any unwanted noises. Fuel economy is an acceptable 17 mpg city/26 mpg highway.

For Buick to succeed and GM to prosper, the brand has to attract buyers who bring the average owner age down by a decade from the high 60s. Some better advertising and smarter marketing should do the trick.

With LaCrosse, Buick has the hardware; all it needs now is the image to go with it.