There are many things we’re going to miss after 2030. Things we’ve previously taken for granted. High among them is the concept of a mechanically straightforward, rear-drive saloon; one endowed with a large petrol engine and just the right amount of grafted-on attitude. Alongside the humbler hot hatch, the history of the go-faster three-box saloon speaks to the long-running democratisation of high performance. By the start of this decade, the car industry had gotten so good at it that in the UK you couldn’t buy a BMW M3 or Mercedes-AMG C63 with less than 500hp, and an Audi RS4 was considered off the pace with 450hp. But in many important ways, it was the Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio that took the biscuit.
There were several good reasons for this. Not least the fact that, back in 2015 when the Giulia was launched, its maker did not seem poised to produce a class-rivalling saloon. Not because there weren’t any examples in its illustrious history, but because it had, for what seemed like an eternity, built exclusively front-drive variants. And while expressive, to-die-for engines were also constituents of its back catalogue, it hadn’t exactly thrilled the pants off anyone in the preceding decade. It was still building the MiTo when the Giulia arrived. Which was like mass-producing a small yawn.
So imagine everyone’s surprise when the Giulia, adorned with a Cloverleaf badge and containing a longitudinal, all-aluminium Ferrari-derived twin-turbocharged V6, landed like a Roman chariot. The 510hp that found its way to the rear wheels seemed positively venomous compared to recent Alfas, but it was also about the way the flagship handled - not just capably as the 50/50 weight distribution of the base model had promised it might, but brilliantly and memorably and with the sort of throttle adjustability that almost beggared belief. It was not perfect, of course - the brakes were fairly useless, for one thing - but the new QF was sensational proof that Alfa, with what seemed like a standing start, could challenge the all-conquering Germans without slavishly imitating them.
In the last ten years, it has managed to retain its outlier status. Arguably more so in the last 12 months than ever, as Mercedes-AMG and BMW M have signalled their intention - with mixed results, it’s fair to say - to make battery-electric power work for them. Alfa, too, is not far behind and while nothing is officially set in stone, it seems very likely that production of the QF will be wound up this spring as the firm begins its own long march towards an electrified replacement. But for now, it remains a fixture of the UK customer website, starting at £84,545 for what must be the last few remaining. Meaning that for now we still get to talk about it as a new car - and, more importantly, you still have a last-gasp chance to buy one.
We’d implore you to do so. To return to the Giulia’s driver’s seat in 2025 is to be reminded what the truly important things look and feel like. When last we drove the updated version, almost exactly a year ago, it had just arrived in the UK. Matt Bird waxed lyrical back then about the appeal of a modern saloon ‘with such an explicit, laser focus on its driver’, and that sentiment continues to ring true. For one thing, it weighs a lot less than two tonnes (just 1,660kg without you in it) and never, ever stops feeling good for every ounce of its advantage over direct rivals. For another, Alfa tossed out the ‘old’ electronically controlled differential and installed a ‘new’ mechanical limited-slip one - and if that sounds like the equivalent of Pink Floyd doing an acoustic set for old time's sake, you’re on the right track.
The analogy is doubly handy because some of the QF's volume has inevitably been turned down. I’ve a distinct memory of the V6 firing up with air-sucking spite in the original version; not so the run-out model, which seems subdued by whatever filters are required to keep it road-legal. But it’s hard to mourn the missing rasp once you’re underway because progress comes so easily to the QF. It slips through its gears as it slips effortlessly from a standstill - and if the absence of peak twist under 2,500rpm suggests a measure of hesitancy, it is always negated by the torque converter’s alertness and the lingering sense that the engine isn't having to work too hard. In fact, because the Giulia rides so well, being no more of a burden to the road than a pond skater, it accommodates lazy, languid driving very well. For as long as you can resist the temptation to wring its neck.
In ideal conditions, its maker reckons you won’t need longer than four seconds to exceed the national limit, and while the QF doesn’t cause you to swear involuntarily like the M3 CS does, you’re unlikely to question the accuracy of Alfa's stopwatch. You’re unlikely to recognise the ten additional horsepower which have appeared on the quoted output either, but that won’t matter a jot when you crest 7,000rpm, delighted to be alive. For all its life-affirming qualities, it is notable that one of the last truly great V6s at full chat doesn't overshadow everything else going on; perhaps even more so than before, it is the presence of so much deftness around you, in such well-measured quantities, that provides the moments to savour.
The ride quality, for one thing, never stops being great. Its triumph - again, underwritten by its lower kerbweight - is to not seem forced or straitjacketed. The adaptive dampers tackle UK roads best in their softer setting, although that does not mean ‘soft’ in a benign way; rowing them back in the QF’s Dynamic mode via the dedicated button merely accesses the kind of flowing (yet cagily controlled) chassis response you want when surface interruptions and gradient changes are nearly constant. Then there’s the steering, which manages the difficult trick of being alert and objectively very quick without seeming twitchy or misaligned with the front end. You place the QF exactly where you want, nearly all the time; not just with confidence, but with a kind of elation, too.
I say ‘nearly’ because the car still refuses to come to a complete stop without nudging your head from the headrest. The brake pedal is hugely improved in feel and its capacity for modulation, though still not perfect. Of course, if you’re minded to identify the most obvious sign of imperfection, you need not turn the engine on at all; the inadequacies of the infotainment screen and various sub-par plastics (especially at the asking price) are plain to see in the cabin. But those demerits always seemed like small beer when set against all the many things the QF did uncannily well - and in the final year (weeks, days) of its decade-long existence, they seem inconsequential to the point of meaningless, while the reasons for buying one pile up beyond counting. In 2023, in these very pages, the QF was voted the second-best saloon launched since 1998. Two years later - and likely for decades to come - it lives up to that kind of billing.
SPECIFICATION | 2024 ALFA ROMEO GIULIA QUADRIFOGLIO
Engine: 2,891cc, V6, twin-turbocharged, petrol
Transmission: eight-speed automatic, rear-wheel drive
Power (hp): 520@6,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 443@2,500-5,000rpm
0-62mph: 3.9sec
Top speed: 191mph
Weight: 1,660kg (DIN)
MPG: 28 (WLTP combined)
CO2: 228g/km
Price: From £84,545
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