Auto & Boats
Here’s What It’s Like to Drive the New Maserati Grecale Trofeo SUV
Courtesy of MaseratiIt’s an odd thing, waking from a dream only to find yourself in another. Or so it seems on a sultry summer morning as I wander the gardens of Ca’ Matilde, an inn with a one-star Michelin restaurant in the impossibly lush Emilia-Romagna countryside. A bull bellows in the distance, a pair of magpies prance in a newly mown field and somewhere nearby the Rose Gold Liquid Metal coat of a Maserati Grecale Trofeo SUV shimmers in the gathering light.
For the past few days I’d been tracing Maserati’s path, starting in Bologna where it was born in 1914, and then on to Modena, where it moved in 1939. In Bologna, between volleys of prosciutto and tortellini, I frequented a bar within earshot of the Fontana di Nettuno (Fountain of Neptune), where Mario, the artiest Maserati brother, reportedly found his inspiration for the marque’s Trident symbol. And in Modena, I toured the historic plant where Maserati constructed its inimitable A6GCS/53, and where, some 70 years later, its artisans hand-build the rakish MC20 Super Sports car.
From the factory, it’s a stone’s throw to Piazza Mazzini, where, in the showroom of La Consorteria 1966, I indulged in a tasting of another of the region’s most coveted commodities, Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena DOP. Curiously but perhaps not surprisingly, as the region’s food and car culture are so deeply intertwined, I discovered a connection between the unctuous, sweet-sour condiment and Maserati. For the elegant glass vessel in which the Modenese consortium bottles its highest-grade Aceto was devised by none other than Giorgetto Giugiaro, the legendary Italian designer who, in 1966, conceived the iconic Maserati Ghibli.
After a pastry and a cappuccino at Ca’ Matilde, I hoist my luggage into the Grecale’s boot and slip into a cabin finished in satiny Ice and Greige leathers. Like the luscious paint job, the deliciously tinted hides were created by Maserati’s Fuoriserie personalization program, through which clients can choose from two exclusive, curated collections of colors and materials or forge their own way with an entirely bespoke design.
Awakening with a snarl, the Grecale Trofeo’s 523-horsepower Nettuno twin-turbo V6 then settles to a murmur as I wind my way toward the Via Emilia, the ancient route that spans Emilia-Romagna from Piacenza in the northwest to Rimini on the Adriatic coast. Aiming for Parma, I glide along the Roman road, peering at the facades of country estates shaded by colossal plane trees and at the unassuming trattorias and osterias whose looks belie their inner delights.
As I’m parking in Parma, a Fiat pulls alongside, its driver eyeing the Fuoriserie logo on the Grecale’s flank. No doubt an automotive connoisseur, a common trait on the fringes of the Terra dei Motori, home not only to Maserati, but to Ferrari, Lamborghini, Pagani and Ducati as well. The abundance staggers the mind. So do the 40-kilogram wheels of cheese in a nearby shop where I investigate the famed Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse, made from the milk of the Reggiana Red Cow brought here by the Barbarians in the fourth century A.D. The 30-month vintage is sublime — savory, mildly sweet and nutty, and irresistibly crumbly. I abscond with a mere kilo.
With Parma shrinking in the mirror, I open the throttle, and with a howl from the Nettuno, the Grecale is flying across the plain, a blur of sunflowers, plum, pear and walnut orchards and vast expanses of the greenest grass, destined for those beatific bovines. As the road slopes upward, twisting beside the Trebbia River, the Maserati dances on its air suspension, climbing higher into the Piacentine Apennines with every sinuous curve. In no time, I’m closing in on Bobbio, an inconceivably beautiful mountain town cooled by a breeze from the Ligurian Sea. Its charms are numerous — among them, alimentari brimming with truffles and funghi porcini — but I don’t linger, for the Grecale beckons, and dreams like these are the rarest of things.
