Last fall, WINDING ROAD was on hand for the global launch of the 2007 Mini Cooper in Spain. And while the latest iteration of the iconic small car was great fun, we were disappointed to find BMW only had evaluators of the more powerful Cooper S on hand. Months later, after finally having driven the standard Cooper, we might just understand why.

Our curiosity about the base model remained unquenched until recently, when a yellow-and-black tester (not pictured) bounded into our fleet. Given but 118 horsepower from its normally aspirated 1.6-liter four, we couldn’t have reasonably expected this regular-strength Cooper would prove to be as entertaining as the substantially gutsier 172-horsepower turbocharged setup in the S.

Our mistake. This effervescent little bumblebee was a hoot, with meaningful thrust available throughout the powerband in every gear. We saw more than 110 miles per hour in fourth gear (its Getrag has six), and the engine was perfectly happy buzzing along in a lower gear for extended periods of enthusiastic flogging.

Despite our penchant for keeping the tachometer needle pegged in its higher registers, the Cooper also returned some impressive real-world mileage. With the throttle carpeted most of the time, we split the EPA’s estimates of 32 miles per gallon city and 40 mpg highway. For the record, meeting government fuel economy estimates isn’t exactly commonplace around these parts.

Editor Reilly Brennan sagaciously remarked that “This is what the [Volkswagen] GTI should’ve been.” As much as we like the VW, it’s evolved into a real porker. And while for its size the Mini is no flyweight, it’s gloriously wieldy, seemingly always on the balls of its feet. Kind of like the first and second generations of the GTI, come to think of it.

Naturally, Mini dealers are only too happy to trot out their catalogs running thick with options, but prospectives exercising restraint will find themselves well rewarded—and not just financially. For instance, the Cooper’s stock fifteen-inch tires provide ample grip, tamping down unsprung weight and maximizing tossability. Of course, we’d spring for extras like the $300 sport seats, and some might plump for the $850 twin-element sunroof, but $950 for Sirius satellite radio borders on the extortionate, and other options add weight and complexity that we’d be happy to do without.

Dollar for dollar, a minimalist Mini may just enjoy maximum appeal. These days, that’s no small thing.