Rarely have I come across a car that so obviously wasn't designed for female consumption. A Mafia boss maybe. Me and the family, no. For that, I rather liked the Chrysler 300C. To be frank, I'm rather sick of cars that, in pandering to the needs of families end up rather patronising them. This one is its own hunk of very macho metal - and the more I looked at it, the more I liked it.

The 300C is not an especially easy car to manoeuvre about and I was grateful for the rear parking sensors when I needed to reverse it into a parking bay. The high rear shelf limits rearward visibility and you're left with a vague approximation of the 300C's extremities.

Even with that amount of torque, 1,928kg of car takes some shifting but the engine never sounds strained or harsh. The direct injection unit is very linear in its power delivery and the turbocharger gets going from very low engine speeds. This means that even while trickling about town, letting the engine and gearbox do all the work for you, you'll still return reasonable fuel consumption figures. Like every American car I've tried, the handling isn't quite up to the standard of its key European rivals. I thought the steering to be somewhat vague and the slow-witted handling does make the 300C feel a little stodgy, an impression backed up by the nautical levels of body roll the car displays if the driver gets a little enthusiastic at the tiller. Despite this relaxed attitude to cornering, the ride quality is surprisingly garrulous. If you drive this car in a straight line it will feel sporty which is doubtless enough for the US domestic market.

I hadn't realised before I checked out this car just how sick to the teeth I am with sensible, practical family designs. If I was in the market for an Executive saloon and didn't mind making a statement, then yes, I'd consider a 300C. Cars designed for women and families? Who needs 'em.