Alfa Giulia Cloverleaf
I’ll start with Jane Austen. Famously, she began Pride and Prejudice with the words ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged…’ This literary snapshot keeps running through my mind as I sit behind the beautifully slim, alcantara and carbonfibre steering wheel of the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio.
After all, it is surely one of motoring’s universal truths that Alfa (in recent decades, at least) makes characterful, charming and beautiful but ultimately disappointing cars.
Yet here I am, contemplating the toppling of that universal truth – because the Giulia is characterful, charming, beautiful and absolutely brilliant. Off the charts fantastic. It is everything you, us, or any Alfa fan would want it to be. Possibly even a bit more.
It starts with that V6. Two turbochargers and 2.9-litres of angry, operatic baritone, building to a shotgun bang and crackle as you pull the blessedly full-sized, column-mounted paddle-shifter and do it all again. None of your apologetic, fiddly little plastic paddles here. The Alfa means business, and little says that quite so much as the race-style paddles that give you control of the eight-speed automatic ‘box.
Of course, this aural extravaganza all happens while anything up to 503bhp and 443lb ft is streaming to the rear wheels. In the Quadrifoglio on road, you will generally want this to be happening while it’s in Dynamic mode (a twist of the ‘DNA’ button makes this happen).
In this state, the gearbox shifts are snappier than they are in Normal, and you can better plunder the stratospherically potent performance. I mean, this is trouser-changing, buttock-clenching stuff.
A claimed 3.9sec 0-62mph sprint says a lot, but the fact that we figured the Alfa on track and got it past 100mph in 8.3sec (we managed 4.0sec to 60mph) says perhaps more about how the Alfa carries not so much a punch as a sustained assault.
For some perspective, consider that 8.3sec to 100mph is a blink behind what a Jaguar XJ220 would do back in the day, only this is a four-door saloon that is easy and enjoyable to live with. If that's not progress, I don't know what is.
Sure, there’s a touch of lag from the engine. A heartbeat as you wait for the real entertainment to begin, and when the turbos have caught their breath and got to work, the Giulia proves rampantly fast – squirrely, dramatic, white-eyed fast. But it’s not hard to manage.
The throttle is feelsome enough that you can modulate it easily, and the power delivery smooth enough that you can make the most of it without fear of an imminent insurance claim.
8.3 SEC TO 100MPH IS A BLINK BEHIND WHAT A JAGUAR XJ220 WOULD DO, ONLY THIS IS A FOUR-DOOR SALOON THAT'S EASY AND ENJOYABLE TO LIVE WITH. IF THAT'S NOT PROGRESS, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.
That is in no small part down to the handling. Whichever deity at Alfa Romeo has been invoked for the development of the Giulia, they need to keep in its good books. I mean, line up those virgin goats for the sacrificial alter, or whatever is required, because it’s worth it.
The steering has a silky progression, is weighted just about perfectly but for a hint of it being too light initially, and is communicative in a way that few electrically assisted setups are. It’s the real key to this car’s delights. The reason, in unison with that engine, that it is so much more fun, more fingertip-responsive than most of the generally heavy-handed super-saloon fraternity.
Sure, a BMW M3 is sharper on track, more honed all round. A Mercedes-AMG C63 S is better at big, smokey drifts. But the Alfa has more character than both, and yet wraps it all up in genuine, bonafide, brilliant talent. By any measure - objective or subjective - the Alfa is more than a match for the established dominants in this class.
It turns in fluidly, lets you know when it’s weighted up properly and – in Race mode, when the traction control hides behind the sofa for a bit – gives you the option of easing it into some drifting thrills, or holding it at the limits of its traction before firing it onwards. The messages are all there and available for you to act on.
It’s sweetly balanced yet mobile, fast yet accessible. Even the ride is good. No, really. With the standard adaptive dampers in the firmer settings, it bobs and bucks a bit thanks to the taut vertical body movement, but you can opt for the softer setting with everything else in Dynamic and enjoy remarkably pliant ride. You wouldn’t be remotely worried about driving this every day.
It's not flawless, though. For a start, the diff is a bit odd. In maximum attack track use, it lets the inside wheel spin up and smoke away a lot of the power a bit too keenly. Also in hard track use, the gearbox’s shortcomings are revealed. It’s not quick enough to quite keep up with everything that’s going on. You want it to change down. You still want it to change down. You’re pulling the paddle. Oh, there you go. It’s changed down.
The throttle response is a little too sharp in Dynamic, so you have to be a bit egg-shell tentative to get a smooth initial application of power, especially in lower gears. The optional carbon ceramic brakes are a bit short of feel, and need a lot of pressure even in normal road use, but you’ll be grateful for them if you expect to drive hard regularly.
Some of the plastics in the cabin are slightly budget-looking for a car that, after options, will likely cost around or, quite easily, north of £70k. Certainly, have a look at the Merc C63 if you want a stark way to highlight the questionable quality in some parts of the Alfa’s interior.
For all that, who cares? The Giulia’s cabin is still quite lovely. The optional alcantara and carbonfibre steering wheel is not expensive, and it’s also beautiful and lovely to use. If you don’t add it, you’re a fool. The manually adjustable Sparco carbonfibre shell seats are expensive, but they are also supportive and snug, yet comfortable, and they look flipping great.
Of course, we can’t sign off this review without mentioning Ferrari’s involvement in the car. The engine, in fact, has prancing horse DNA in it. It actually has the same bore and stroke as the California T’s V8, but it’s not a Ferrari engine. No. If I say that, I wake up tomorrow with a horse’s head in my bed. No, this V6 is ‘inspired’ by Ferrari. That’s the official line.
Regardless of how much Maranello-based intervention is responsible for the Giulia Quadrifoglio, this is a bright, shining message to the world that Alfa is back. Really back.
The unflattering universal truth about Alfa is no more. And boy, what a way to end it. All hail the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio. Not just a characterful, wonderful car, but the promise of a new era. And it's got an Italian accent.
ALFA ROMEO GIULIA QUADRIFOGLIO
Price: £61,300
Engine: 2891cc, twin-turbo, V6
Layout: Front-engined, RWD
Gearbox: 8-spd auto
Power: 503bhp at 6500rpm
Torque: 443lb ft at 2500 - 5000rpm
0-62mph: 3.9 seconds
Top speed: 191mph
Weight: 1524kg
Economy: 34.4mpg (combined)
CO2: 189g/km
Tags: #Alfa #Giulia #Quadrifoglio #Cloverleaf #review #road test #first drive #M3 #C63 #V6 #turbo #twinturbo #RWD #drifting
Alfa Giulia Cloverleaf
I’ll start with Jane Austen. Famously, she began Pride and Prejudice with the words ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged…’ This literary snapshot keeps running through my mind as I sit behind the beautifully slim, alcantara and carbonfibre steering wheel of the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio.
After all, it is surely one of motoring’s universal truths that Alfa (in recent decades, at least) makes characterful, charming and beautiful but ultimately disappointing cars.
Yet here I am, contemplating the toppling of that universal truth – because the Giulia is characterful, charming, beautiful and absolutely brilliant. Off the charts fantastic. It is everything you, us, or any Alfa fan would want it to be. Possibly even a bit more.
It starts with that V6. Two turbochargers and 2.9-litres of angry, operatic baritone, building to a shotgun bang and crackle as you pull the blessedly full-sized, column-mounted paddle-shifter and do it all again. None of your apologetic, fiddly little plastic paddles here. The Alfa means business, and little says that quite so much as the race-style paddles that give you control of the eight-speed automatic ‘box.
Of course, this aural extravaganza all happens while anything up to 503bhp and 443lb ft is streaming to the rear wheels. In the Quadrifoglio on road, you will generally want this to be happening while it’s in Dynamic mode (a twist of the ‘DNA’ button makes this happen).
In this state, the gearbox shifts are snappier than they are in Normal, and you can better plunder the stratospherically potent performance. I mean, this is trouser-changing, buttock-clenching stuff.
A claimed 3.9sec 0-62mph sprint says a lot, but the fact that we figured the Alfa on track and got it past 100mph in 8.3sec (we managed 4.0sec to 60mph) says perhaps more about how the Alfa carries not so much a punch as a sustained assault.
For some perspective, consider that 8.3sec to 100mph is a blink behind what a Jaguar XJ220 would do back in the day, only this is a four-door saloon that is easy and enjoyable to live with. If that's not progress, I don't know what is.
Sure, there’s a touch of lag from the engine. A heartbeat as you wait for the real entertainment to begin, and when the turbos have caught their breath and got to work, the Giulia proves rampantly fast – squirrely, dramatic, white-eyed fast. But it’s not hard to manage.
The throttle is feelsome enough that you can modulate it easily, and the power delivery smooth enough that you can make the most of it without fear of an imminent insurance claim.
8.3 SEC TO 100MPH IS A BLINK BEHIND WHAT A JAGUAR XJ220 WOULD DO, ONLY THIS IS A FOUR-DOOR SALOON THAT'S EASY AND ENJOYABLE TO LIVE WITH. IF THAT'S NOT PROGRESS, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.
That is in no small part down to the handling. Whichever deity at Alfa Romeo has been invoked for the development of the Giulia, they need to keep in its good books. I mean, line up those virgin goats for the sacrificial alter, or whatever is required, because it’s worth it.
The steering has a silky progression, is weighted just about perfectly but for a hint of it being too light initially, and is communicative in a way that few electrically assisted setups are. It’s the real key to this car’s delights. The reason, in unison with that engine, that it is so much more fun, more fingertip-responsive than most of the generally heavy-handed super-saloon fraternity.
Sure, a BMW M3 is sharper on track, more honed all round. A Mercedes-AMG C63 S is better at big, smokey drifts. But the Alfa has more character than both, and yet wraps it all up in genuine, bonafide, brilliant talent. By any measure - objective or subjective - the Alfa is more than a match for the established dominants in this class.
It turns in fluidly, lets you know when it’s weighted up properly and – in Race mode, when the traction control hides behind the sofa for a bit – gives you the option of easing it into some drifting thrills, or holding it at the limits of its traction before firing it onwards. The messages are all there and available for you to act on.
It’s sweetly balanced yet mobile, fast yet accessible. Even the ride is good. No, really. With the standard adaptive dampers in the firmer settings, it bobs and bucks a bit thanks to the taut vertical body movement, but you can opt for the softer setting with everything else in Dynamic and enjoy remarkably pliant ride. You wouldn’t be remotely worried about driving this every day.
It's not flawless, though. For a start, the diff is a bit odd. In maximum attack track use, it lets the inside wheel spin up and smoke away a lot of the power a bit too keenly. Also in hard track use, the gearbox’s shortcomings are revealed. It’s not quick enough to quite keep up with everything that’s going on. You want it to change down. You still want it to change down. You’re pulling the paddle. Oh, there you go. It’s changed down.
The throttle response is a little too sharp in Dynamic, so you have to be a bit egg-shell tentative to get a smooth initial application of power, especially in lower gears. The optional carbon ceramic brakes are a bit short of feel, and need a lot of pressure even in normal road use, but you’ll be grateful for them if you expect to drive hard regularly.
Some of the plastics in the cabin are slightly budget-looking for a car that, after options, will likely cost around or, quite easily, north of £70k. Certainly, have a look at the Merc C63 if you want a stark way to highlight the questionable quality in some parts of the Alfa’s interior.
For all that, who cares? The Giulia’s cabin is still quite lovely. The optional alcantara and carbonfibre steering wheel is not expensive, and it’s also beautiful and lovely to use. If you don’t add it, you’re a fool. The manually adjustable Sparco carbonfibre shell seats are expensive, but they are also supportive and snug, yet comfortable, and they look flipping great.
Of course, we can’t sign off this review without mentioning Ferrari’s involvement in the car. The engine, in fact, has prancing horse DNA in it. It actually has the same bore and stroke as the California T’s V8, but it’s not a Ferrari engine. No. If I say that, I wake up tomorrow with a horse’s head in my bed. No, this V6 is ‘inspired’ by Ferrari. That’s the official line.
Regardless of how much Maranello-based intervention is responsible for the Giulia Quadrifoglio, this is a bright, shining message to the world that Alfa is back. Really back.
The unflattering universal truth about Alfa is no more. And boy, what a way to end it. All hail the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio. Not just a characterful, wonderful car, but the promise of a new era. And it's got an Italian accent.
ALFA ROMEO GIULIA QUADRIFOGLIO
Price: £61,300
Engine: 2891cc, twin-turbo, V6
Layout: Front-engined, RWD
Gearbox: 8-spd auto
Power: 503bhp at 6500rpm
Torque: 443lb ft at 2500 - 5000rpm
0-62mph: 3.9 seconds
Top speed: 191mph
Weight: 1524kg
Economy: 34.4mpg (combined)
CO2: 189g/km
Tags: #Alfa #Giulia #Quadrifoglio #Cloverleaf #review #road test #first drive #M3 #C63 #V6 #turbo #twinturbo #RWD #drifting