A PICKLE inspired this story. More accurately, a slice of pickle. It arced through the air from the passenger window of a Hilux just as the filter light turned green, hitting the windscreen of the yellow Ferrari with a fat splat. I watched it start to slide down the glass before the coefficient of friction arrested it, waiting for me to figure out which of the steering wheel controls operated the wiper.
For a moment I was captivated by that pickle. Not for what it was, or for the fact that whoever threw it would have to negotiate his burger without it, but more for what it represented. It was as much a slice of resentment as a slice of dill. The car I was driving had provoked such a visceral reaction that, in that moment, I couldn’t quite decide whether that was a good or bad thing. You certainly don’t buy a supercar to be ignored.
The Ferrari 296 GTB isn’t readily overlooked. At the moment it’s the supercar du jour. With 610kW of electrically-boosted power at its elbow, its acceleration to 200km/h is to a McLaren F1 what a McLaren F1 is to a Porsche 718 Cayman GT4 RS: of a wholly different dimension. It’s worth reminding ourselves that this is the baby, an entry-level mid-engined Ferrari, powered in this instance by a dinky 3.0-litreV6.
It wields that power judiciously. Mat the throttle hard and there’s none of that tarmac-tearing rambunctiousness of a McLaren 720S, at least not away from a standing start. It’s quick but not Plaid-style concussive. Ferrari has been limiting torque in the lower gears
