I’m a man of simple pleasures when it comes to what I want in a performance car and it’s probably because of my unquestionably imbalanced diet that consisted purely of hot hatches in my formative years.

Nonsense-free cars like the 106 Rallye and 182 Trophy; two naturally aspirated gems, both paired to manual gearboxes and absolutely made by engineers whose obsessiveness to please people like you and I came to the fore within yards.

No stop-start systems, no hateful lane-keeping assistance and most definitely no infuriating pre-collision warnings, yet all the better for it. You were an integral part of the process as a result, they craved your input and you had to work them hard to reap the rewards, whether that was using their abundance of revs or working through their downright brilliant gearboxes.

Electric cars – given their scarily clever systems and the fact they have an uncanny knack of detaching the driver from the experience – really aren’t for me. They’re cold, inanimate objects which lack the thing I look for most in a car: personality.

But what happens when Porsche – my absolute favourite marque on the planet thanks to its sensational 911s over the years – decide to build an all-electric saloon? The Taycan may have that famed badge, but does it have Porsche’s all-important DNA?

I needn’t really have worried because the Taycan – although obviously not as sonorous or engaging as a 911 – is a revelation in a sea of EV mundanity.

Outside, it’s ultra-modern and looks the part; the 2024 facelift is minor but it has smoothened the front end and although it’s similar from behind as well, the light bar that swoops across looks fantastic, especially at night.

Open its driver’s door and you’re met with ultimate quality as you’d expect with Porsche. Even this base model Taycan is about £100,000 now (we’ll not discuss depreciation...) but importantly it feels like a six-figure car’s cabin. Leather is used on just about every surface and there’s a very expensive-feeling touchscreen to the left. The Taycan also retains its brilliant model-wide steering wheel, which is of perfect size, and that curved digital display ahead.

Select ‘D’ and it moves away with that typical whirr, but within yards you can feel it’s not a run-of-the-mill EV. It’s Porsche personified: the steering’s beautifully judged, the low-slung driving position cannot possibly be improved, it feels extremely alert despite its not inconsiderable weight and is perfectly damped.

Despite this being the entry-level version there’s still 400bhp which, given it’s delivered to its driver in an instantaneous hit, feels like much more. It’s enough to record the dash to 60mph in four-and-a-bit seconds but it’s the pull from 30mph to 70mph that’s its most eye-opening aspect. Stamp on the throttle and you can’t help but grin like an excited child.

It’s the only Taycan to have rear-wheel-drive, but don’t think that that means its rear’s an easy-to-coax terror. Even when pushing on it’s remarkably friendly and the traction is conjures would have you questioning whether Porsche’s telling a fib – it feels like all four wheels are receiving equal doses of power and you never have any of those stomach-churning moments when you’re a bit too ambitious in a petrol-powered, rear-drive car.

Acceleration doesn’t define sportiness and neither does outright grip, but what does is ground-covering ability, how it delivers that to its driver and how it flows through corners. The best road I know – the A169 which connects Pickering to Whitby – possesses everything you could ever need to test a car: fast, well-sighted straights, hairpin bends, flowing corners and tight, 20mph corners which then snake over the North Yorkshire Moors until you reach its dramatic summit and see the North Sea.

It’s 21 miles of perfection, quite frankly, and the Taycan showed its DNA, the DNA that is unmistakably Porsche and only could ever be Porsche. I suppose the only way of surmising its brilliance to EV-hating petrolheads – such as me before this fateful drive – is if you put headphones on the driver, they’d 100 per cent be bowled over and think it’s a thoroughbred, non-electrified Porsche. There’s a pleasing alacrity to how it goes about its business and that translates into a thoroughly enjoyable, addictive experience.

So far, so good, then, but as with any EV there’s slight trepidation when it comes to charging and range before you spend any decent time with one. The Taycan – remarkably – can do a genuine 330 miles on its 89KWH battery, with mixed driving, on a full ‘tank’ so it too passes that test with flying colours. Factor in the fact that it has the ability to put 200 miles into its battery in about 20 minutes on a fast charger and it truly does diminish any negative aspects about taking on long distances.

I love petrol-powered performance cars – I always have and always will. I love their character, how they dissect challenging roads and how they make you feel whilst doing so. However, the Taycan really does prove that EVs don’t have to be boring. With the right know-how, Porsche’s engineers have achieved a remarkable feat and created a car that someone like me – an ardent hot hatch-loving, manual gearbox aficionado – can actually enjoy.

I’ll defend the Taycan to the hilt because it really is that good.