Some cars you admire from afar. Others stay with you, quietly waiting for the day your paths cross again.
I still remember the first time I met this friend. It was 2011, and my dad and I wandered into a used car showroom that had something unexpected sitting under the lights. It was a Maserati Quattroporte, painted in a deep blue with the familiar tan leather that seemed to be the default combination for these cars at the time. I was old enough to understand its presence but young enough to be surprised by the price tag. For about the cost of a new Toyota Camry, you could buy a used Italian luxury sedan with a trident on the grille and a Ferrari-built V8 under the hood. It was tempting, but that particular car had the finicky DuoSelect automated manual transmission; even without driving it, we both knew it would not have been the right choice for us. Still, the impression stayed with me. The lines, the badge, and the aura of it all stuck somewhere deep in my mind.
Twelve years later, I met that friend again. This time, I was not just looking. My 2008 Maserati Quattroporte is painted in Grigio Touring Metallic, a shade that changes character as the light moves across its surfaces. The interior is a luxurious black, accented by shimmering carbon fibre trim that glints softly in the sun. Most importantly, mine has the ZF-sourced six-speed automatic transmission. It suits the car perfectly, delivering smooth and confident shifts while making the driving experience feel relaxed and intuitive. It removes the unpredictability that came with the DuoSelect, allowing me to focus entirely on the things that make this car special.
Maserati has lived many lives. Over the years it has been under Citroën, DeTomaso, Fiat, Ferrari, and now Stellantis, and each period has shaped its personality. The Quattroporte in my garage comes from the Ferrari years, when Maserati seemed at its most confident and glamorous. It is a snapshot of that chapter in the marque’s history, and driving it is like hearing old stories told exactly as you remember them.
It makes me think about how much weight that trident badge once carried. Maserati was established in 1914 with racing at its core, building some of the most beautiful and technically advanced cars of their time. For decades they competed with the very best, and the name stood alongside Ferrari, Aston Martin, and Porsche as a mark of exclusivity and passion. The modern Maserati still carries the badge, but often it feels like a shadow of its former self, chasing trends and sales volume with SUVs and diluted models that lack the clarity of purpose the brand once had. That is what makes the period my Quattroporte comes from feel so important. In the mid-2000s, Maserati seemed to find the perfect balance between heritage and modern relevance. With Ferrari’s engineering influence, Pininfarina’s design, and a focus on making something that was both opulent and deeply emotional to drive, it was a moment where they truly felt like themselves again.
The way it rides is part of the experience. For a brand with such a performance pedigree, the Quattroporte is remarkably supple. It absorbs rough pavement without losing composure, gliding in a way that makes long drives feel effortless. It is a luxury sedan in the truest sense, offering comfort without diluting the connection between car and driver. The steering has a natural weight that builds as you turn in, and you always know what the front wheels are doing. It is as if the car knows when to be firm and when to be gentle, and it gets the balance just right.
The heart of it is the Ferrari-designed 4.2-litre V8, and more than its power, it is the voice that defines the car. At idle it is warm and composed, a low murmur that feels almost polite. Touch the throttle and the tone sharpens, as if it has just remembered who it is. Push harder and the note opens up into a full-bodied wail, soaring to a sound so rich and mechanical you can almost see the valves and pistons dancing. There are faster engines and louder ones, but few speak to you with this much character.
Then there is the styling, which has lost none of its impact. The Pininfarina lines still feel perfectly judged. The long hood, the discreet fender vents, and the coupe-like roofline give it a distinctive elegance, while the rear window’s graceful curvature sets it apart from anything else in its class. Open the door and the craftsmanship continues. The black leather seats are sculpted yet inviting, the carbon fibre trim catches the light in fine detail, and the driving position feels like it was built for you alone.
Living with it is a reminder that no friend is perfect. The occasional rattle or electronic idiosyncrasy makes itself known, and caring for it properly requires patience and attention. Yet those imperfections are part of the relationship. They give it texture and make the moments when everything comes together even more rewarding.
Every time I start the engine, I am back in that showroom with my dad in 2011, staring at a car that seemed impossibly exotic for what it cost. I am also hearing Maserati’s voice from the Ferrari years, a voice full of confidence, warmth, and just enough drama to make you smile. My Quattroporte is more than a car I always wanted. It is a link to a chapter in Maserati’s history that will never be repeated, and a promise kept to my younger self. Every drive feels like picking up a conversation exactly where it left off.
