For the last few decades, Canadians shopping for a sporty Italian car had few choices.
Option one, head over to Mr. Ferrari, where a somewhat snooty fella will hand you a clipboard and meaningfully tap the end of a long list of names: you can sign up, but expect to wait. Option two, try Mr. Lamborghini's showroom, where the salesman will try to flog you what's essentially an Audi wearing a Brioni suit: "Nein, nein, dies ist ein Italienischeswagen!" Yeah, right.
Italian sports cars are lovely things, but they aren't for the faint of heart or feeble of wallet.
At least, that's how it used to be; these days Fiat has been making considerable inroads with their 500 city car. It may have been bred on the streets of Roma, but the scrappy little Fiat has taken to Vancouver's crowded roads with aplomb.
Just one issue - the 100-horsepower four-cylinder in the standard car might have been willing, but it certainly wasn't quick. The 500 might be sporty, but it's no sportscar.
Now Fiat's put a sting in the little tyke's tail with their scorpion-badged Abarth edition. It's turbocharged, it's tuned; it's got a lowered suspension, lightweight alloys and dual exhaust pipes.
Andiamo!
There's still a modicum of the retrocute factor employed in the original 500's design, but check out the gap-mouthed front fascia, widened to accommodate the intercoolers and other turbocharging-related plumbing. With a ride dropped by 15 millimetres and 17-inch alloy wheels, it's a much more aggressive-looking little thing: a mafioso's pug.
Just to make sure you don't miss the point, Scorpion badges have been hot-glued on every exterior surface of the Abarth. Aside from looking cool, the iconic emblem is a tribute to a one-time independent speed shop for European Fiat enthusiasts. While Abarth proper died off in the 1970s, this hot-ted up Fiat certainly looks like a proper standard-bearer.
First points awarded: sliding behind the wheel of the Abarth is far easier than clambering into the closest-competitor Mini Cooper S. The 500 is based on a small city car after all, and that means a high roofline and upright seating position - it's a lateral move to step in, eliminating parking lot contortions.
The Abarth goes on to differentiate itself from its cheaper sibling with highly bolstered sport bucket seats, a thick, flatbottomed, racing-inspired steering wheel and lots of red stitching. Just to the left of the retro-styled and somewhat-useless instrument panel, there's a boost gauge pod that incorporates a shift-light - engage sport-mode and this will blink at you to upshift when hitting redline.
Cool stuff, but there are a few niggles to be found. First, while the standard six-speaker audio system is plenty powerful, it has buttons for the volume controls rather than a knob.
My tester was equipped with the optional Tom-Tom-based navigation system, and it has to be said, this setup is a bit of an afterthought. Basically a stand-alone unit that slots into a plug in the dash, it's not exactly slickly integrated, and can be easily stolen. My advice? Just get a dock for your smart-phone, it'll work better (as long as you haven't updated your iPhone lately).
The standard Fiat 500 has a Sport button which, as far as I could tell, illuminates a "Sport" light in the centre of the instrument cluster to sort of make you feel better about yourself. That's pretty much all it does.
Hit the same button on the Abarth and the car allows access to all 160 h.p. and 170 foot-pounds of torque from the tiny but hyperactive 1.4-litre turbo. The steering firms up, and throttle response becomes more linear. Quite frankly, the only annoying thing is that you need to press the button every time you get into the car; apparently fuel economy is somewhat improved by leaving the car in normal mode, but the car feels strangled if you do so - let the little terrier off the leash.
Buy an Italian phrasebook and dog-ear the pages with the more, um, saucy expressions; this little scamp'll have you shouting them at the top of your lungs as it scrabbles at the tarmac with a considerable amount of torque steer.
Yes, the roly-poly high-chair feel of the standard 500 is still sort of there, though the Abarth's stickier tires and lowered suspension keep things well clamped down.
Admittedly, the high centre of gravity and narrow, city-car track-width are probably going to make the Abarth second banana around a racetrack when lined up against a more expensive Cooper S. On the street though? It's just as much fun, and maybe even a bit of a wilder ride than the buttoned-down English car.
One caveat - the five-speed gearshift is a trifle rubbery. It feels a bit like stirring extra-thick polenta rather than actually changing gears, but it's a quirk you soon get used to.
Along with the excellent standard audio, the $23,995 Abarth has Bluetooth and iPod connectivity as basic.
Optional features include the $495 TomTom navigation (don't bother) and the $295 Satellite Radio. Other interior enhancements can be added with premium leather seats setting you back $800, and a huge glass sunroof letting in the light (for $1,200).
Like the 500, there's plenty of fun to be had kitting out the exterior of the car to your heart's content. The ($995) 17-inch gloss-white alloys equipped on my tester looked great - and were coated in unsightly brake dust in about 3.7 seconds. I'd go with the black option, or the standard 16-inchers.
Fuel-economy is fairly reasonable at 7.1 litres/ 100 kilometres city and 5.7 l/100 km highway, predicted; the Abarth can use 87 octane, but premium is recommended for track days. Naturally, hyper-miling the hot Fiat to obtain these best-case-scenario figures will require every fibre of willpower you possess. To heck with that - punch it. Finally, an Italian supercar for the rest of us.
