Everyone has an opinion about Ford's all-new, 40-year-old supercar. For some the GT is just a cynical rip-off of a design classic, whilst others look upon it as a brilliantly evocative homage to a milestone in Ford's 100-year history. It is both controversial and familiar, which is an odd combination. But make no mistake, it is a serious supercar.

Ford could no doubt sell the entire planned run of 5000 GTs on looks and image alone (production starts in second quarter of 2004; just 85 cars will come to Europe; the UK has been allocated a mere 25) but it has striven to make the GT as good to drive as it is to behold. The small team responsible for making the GT aren't shying away from making bold claims, either. According to Fred Goodnow, who headed up the GT's design and engineering team, their goal was simple: 'To make the best car in the world in its segment.'

Rewind a little to the Detroit Auto Show in January 2002 and that target seems wildly ambitious, for as good as the GT concept looked, it was a million miles away from production reality. At least, that's what the top design and engineering staff at Ford thought until Bill Ford saw the public's reaction to the car, the publicity it attracted and the sheer blinding obviousness of tapping Ford's rich history as it approached its 100th birthday. The Ford GT was given the green light. And it had to be ready for the centenary celebrations in June 2003.

Build a supercar from scratch in one year. That was the task handed to John Colletti (director of SVT) and Neil Ressler (ex chief of vehicle technology; Ressler came out of retirement to consult on the programme).

Together they assembled a team of boundless enthusiasm, ability and focus and enlisted the help of key engineering partners to solve the difficulties of such a short development programme. Mayflower supplies the superplastic-formed aluminium body panels, Metro Technologies fabricates the aluminium spaceframe chassis, Roush developed the engine, while Ricardo supplies the transmission and Lear the interior. The constituent parts are assembled by Saleen (Mustang tuner and now supercar manufacturer in its own right).

It's a very different process from that of a high- volume Ford production car, which would be developed almost entirely in-house, but it does have its advantages: the last thing an emotional product like the GT needed was decision-making to become bogged-down with endless committees and big-company politics. The small GT team worked independently and instinctively. If it felt right it was in, if not they thought of another solution; just like supercars of old.

As the dappled California sunshine begins to break through the early morning haze and gently picks out the fluid curves of the GT I'm already smitten. The proportions are perfect, the stance aggressive but not brash; it has a brutal edge but the elegant sweeps of aluminium are still delicate enough to fascinate rather than offend. If the GT doesn't move the art of car design on one iota, so what? It is simply gorgeous, one of the great shapes, and in bright red with two solid white stripes running from nose to dramatic Kamm-tail, it's one of the most tantalising pieces of moving art in the world. Once I've walked around it, cast aside any last traces of cynicism and been hopelessly seduced, I press the rubber button that electrically releases the door.

It feels light, flimsy even, and, as it swings open, I catch my first proper glimpse of the interior. The sills are fairly narrow and the seats are quite a drop down. They mimic the original GT40's ventilated squabs and seat-backs yet don't look particularly authentic. The dash, too, clearly takes its inspiration from the '60s racer. Behind the large steering wheel, a rev-counter redlined at 6500rpm takes centre stage; the speedo is angled towards the driver but positioned right at the end of the instrument cowl, directly above the transmission tunnel. It goes all the way to 220mph. I love the no-nonsense ambience, though some of the materials look a little cheap.

Once you've dropped into the driver's seat it's easy to get comfortable. You sit low but surprisingly upright; the steering wheel is both reach and rake adjustable and the pedals are perfectly placed. Despite the GT's low roofline (44in) there's plenty of headroom. Twist the key and the dash flickers to life; depress the brake pedal and clutch (this is an American car, remember), prod the red starter button to your right, and the dry-sumped 5.4-litre supercharged V8 awakens with an angry bark. On tickover it sounds fantastic, as deep-chested as you'd expect but with a definite edge that the lightly-stressed V8s you hear at every set of traffic lights in America can't muster. Blip the throttle and the revs flare quickly and noisily before returning to a rock-steady idle.

Into first and you'll notice the gearbox's long throw, the lightness of the clutch and the immediate swell of torque that makes slow speed manoeuvring stress-free. Within a few hundred yards it's clear that there won't be too much pottering today, though. I have Neil Hannemann, chief programme engineer of the GT, sat beside me and ahead is God's very own stretch of road - the Pacific Coast Highway. It runs the length of the US West Coast and is as sinuous and testing as any European road I've ever encountered. There are huge camber changes, sudden and violent surface transformations and everything from tight second-gear corners, cut deep into the huge jagged rocks, to never-ending 100mph-plus sweepers, all hanging a hundred feet or so above the shimmering Pacific Ocean.

The speed limit is 55mph, a pace the GT can comfortably exceed in first gear. Fortunately the annual Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance has busied the local police and it's before 8 o'clock on a Sunday morning. Moreover, I'm British and therefore immune from foreign speed limits... At least, I hope I am, otherwise I could be detained by Uncle Sam for a very long time.

The GT is a rocketship; 500bhp and 500lb ft was always going to mean fireworks but studying the numbers can't prepare you for the savagery of the retro Ford when it's allowed to slip its leash. What's more, you can use every last drop of grunt at will. It has staggering traction, thanks in part to enormous 315/40 ZR 19 Goodyear Eagle F1 Supercar rear tyres - there's not even a whiff of wheelspin as the chassis loads-up on the exit of a corner. The supple rear suspension is invaluable here, too, pressing the gumball tyres hard into the surface as the weight shifts rearwards and you slingshot on to the next corner.

The grip and stonk are complemented by the deft weighting of the controls and crisp feedback through the steering. Approaching yet another tightening third-gear corner, the huge Brembo cross-drilled discs (355mm front, 335mm rear) are chomped hard by the four-piston callipers. There's a bit of dive but not enough to upset the GT's composure and it locks onto line with no understeer, the steering relaying a constant stream of information about grip levels, encouraging you to get progressively on the power and to start working those huge rear Goodyears. Mid-corner the balance remains neutral with just a hint of stabilising understeer to nudge up against, and as you spot the exit you can really give the engine its head. The understeer disappears as the corner opens out and the GT calls on its huge reserves of power to chew up the next straight, the V8 working hard, the noise smashing into the scarred scenery like a hammer drill. It's a truly American soundtrack; the screw-type supercharger has been deliberately hushed so there's no whine to undermine the thunderous V8 bellow.

This stream of thumping acceleration, massive retardation and torso-contorting cornering-g flows for mile after mile and the GT just eats up the road. Only on sharp ridges of broken tarmac does it hint at losing its composure as the front wheels skip a few millimetres above the surface. The brake pedal is firm and consistent, while the steering, which at first seems a bit aloof, becomes more intimate as you get closer to the limits. The chassis feels so composed that you can't help but revel in the ability and security of the GT. The aluminium structure feels fist-tight, allowing the suspension to work each corner of the car to its limit. Through faster corners all four tyres are whooshing in unison, just on the verge of a gentle slide. I can't think of many supercars that would feel so devastating and yet so friendly on such a short acquaintance.

Hannemann is a great passenger, especially when you consider that this is his baby and there are only a few GTs currently in existence; this car probably owes Ford over million. Formerly of Chrysler, he worked on the original Dodge Viper and the Le Mans-winning Viper GTS-R before switching to Saleen where he was charged with transforming the S7 racer into a road car. He's rightly proud of the GT's dynamics: 'We looked at the Ferrari 360 as the image car if you like, and the Honda NSX as the benchmark in everyday usability, but with the chassis we just went our own way. We wanted lots of grip but a really predictable set-up at the limit with the tiniest trace of understeer.'

You'd like Hannemann; he's an incurable enthusiast and doesn't mind praising the opposition. He clearly has a soft spot for the Ferrari: 'I love the 360; the noise and looks, but it's difficult to drive at the limit. We wanted the GT to be faster and easier to drive for less skilled drivers but still a real challenge for people who'll drive them hard.'

The GT I'm driving is pretty representative of customer cars but Hannemann is still tweaking damper settings and is keen for feedback. We discuss everything from brake feel to gearbox action (the GT's weakest link) but he's most animated when I inadvertently yump the GT. It grounds out as we crash back onto the road, something that's never happened before; he'll look into it and make the necessary changes - not that you'd ever deliberately replicate the incident.

By the end of my stint behind the wheel I'm convinced that Ford's new supercar is much more than a pastiche of the GT40, more than able to stand comparison with Ferrari's 360 and Porsche's 911 Turbo. Dynamically it's spot-on, I defy anyone not to fall in love with its looks, and the performance is immense. Ford reckons it'll hit 60mph in 3.7sec and the ton in just over 8, though in the four days I spent with Ford folk nobody talked much about the GT's sprinting ability - odd given the market's obsession with 0-60s and quarter-mile figures.

But then the GT is too well resolved to be defined by figures. It beats its homegrown performance benchmark, the new Viper, but that's incidental to the development team. As Ford employees, many of them may never again work on a project as exciting and free of constraints as the GT. This could be their one shot at making a genuine supercar, their legacy. If it is, then they can rest easy. The GT is a belter.