Lamborghini does not take part in reliability studies like J.D. Power or others, but the brand conducts regularly scheduled surveys for customer satisfaction.

“It’s hard for small companies to do those studies externally, but we do have our own satisfaction system that examines product, sales and service,” Mr. Farmeschi said. “Our tight network does monthly polling to look for flags and ask questions with customer ratings from 0 to 10. If a customer rates any issue below 8, we require a detailed report within seven days on the circumstance with input from an auditor, a field representative, the dealer and a product manager at headquarters. Yet, even with this rigorous system in place, our average value on these ratings is now 9.8.”

The proof, however, is in the driving.

Aside from design (and price), Lamborghini has a defining feature: sound. More specifically, the Huracán’s opera you conduct with your right foot. Actually, you first conduct it with your index finger, firing up the orchestra from a covered button in the center console. Most modern internal-combustion-engine cars have become so masked that you hardly notice the very term that defines them: internal combustion. Think about the fact that explosions occur by design at regular intervals inside these aluminum cases. In the Huracán, there’s absolutely no doubting that stuff explodes inside those 10 cylinders.

All that noise wouldn’t mean a thing if it didn’t put out, and indeed, the Huracán Evo puts out. From 5.2 liters, all of its 631 horsepower is on tap at a motorcycle-like 8,000 r.p.m., as is 442 pound-feet of torque at 6,500 r.p.m., itself a speed at which most car engines run headlong into their electronic rev limiters to prevent pistons from seeking daylight.

But toe your loafer into the throttle and all of your problems disappear. Except, perhaps, for the bill involved and the minimum of $287,400 you just spent on yourself. The Evo can launch you to 60 miles an hour in 3.1 seconds, officially, and onward to a top speed of 202 m.p.h., though Car and Driver measured one Huracán Evo Coupe at just 2.5 seconds to 60 m.p.h., so the factory’s numbers might very well be modest.

And the magic extends to the immediacy of the Huracán’s steering and suspension. In corners, transitions and on the track, it feels like a giant go-kart. Huge carbon ceramic brake discs slow things down from extralegal speeds at eyeball-straining rates. Prescriptions of Zoloft would plunge if a few laps in a Huracán could be widely distributed.