MANY years ago Jaguar ran an advert for the XJ which majored on the message that if you owned one success had been a regular guest at life's dinner table where a prawn cocktail and Black Forest gateaux were never far away. The Berni Inn era.

The message was that the car defined the man's progress in life. In a tweed jacket he was a country GP, besuited a lawyer and if wearing an Hawaiian shirt, a train robber.

The XJ was the car for every demon of the Con club snooker table, gents whose default setting was a large scotch. The days when anyone who didn't smoke was a cissy.

Foreign cars were simply not the done thing, even if the Germans were coming. The Americans couldn't get a toe hold because they made suspension from Angel Delight. Large Japanese cars were thought vulgar and were likely to be called the Blackcurrant or Togo Cecil B DeMille.

It didn't matter that in those days that Jag reliability was such that several AA patrols would name children after you, it was the perception of Britishness and spondoolies in the bank which mattered.

And that is precisely where Infiniti as a brand has its work cut out.

Oh yes, one quick peek defines the Q70 2.2 diesel Premium as a luxury item, finished in leather and as carefully crafted as a pair of Liberty knickers but still people struggle with badge recognition.

A neighbour asked me if it was a Mazda, presumably because anything with a point in its badge must be. And one cheeky monkey circled the car three times. I was about to ring the police but then though better of it; how long would it take me to explain chummy was casing the Infiniti: "No, I N F I N I T I - it's the luxury arm of Nissan, forget it he's goneâ¦"

Which is a shame, because for £36,750 anyone in the market for comfort, performance and tax-efficient economy should have it on their short list.

This year's models have had a quick scrub behind the ears. They are leaner and cleaner than before with some trim titivation. The important change is the introduction of a four cylinder Mercedes-sourced diesel option. Infinity points out that 71% of executive cars in Europe are four-pots. Not many people know that and now they do I doubt it's shattered their earths at all.

The 168bhp diesel is quick enough for a full-blown saloon and pulls away well via the seven-speed automatic gearbox, even if at this point of departure there is some engine noise intruding. But hey, this is not its home ground and once on the motorway the car settles into quiet smoothness and you can let your driver take his cap off.

Pushing the car hard down the country lanes is not as rewarding. Well you wouldn't take a heavy horse show jumping would you? It's hardly a threat to hedge life but cumbersome.

This will be a popular car with business. It claims over 57mpg and low emissions, 129g/km, keep taxation down. Well you know, austerity and all that.

Comfort is the Q70s star attraction. The cabin is tasteful and there is a lot of room. Lovely to see an analogue clock in the logical centre console. It is a smooth ride but because it has a transmission tunnel you really only get two in the back.

The Q70 is going to suffer the slings and arrows of a market where the badge on the back matters but it has presence, is a good place to be and feels plush. Plenty of buttons control plenty of spec. Electric leather seats, LED lighting and a long, long list of safety equipment feature alongside the expected sat nav and quality stereo.

There are four modes the driver can select for road conditions and collision warning along with intelligent cruise control are standard. Lane departure warning is not the usual nagging bully so you won't switch it off.

Technically advanced as the Q70 is there is one throw-back to the glory days of the saloon car; four doors and a proper boot for one's luggage, porter. A ski hatch. Why would you want to serve yoghurt from the boot?