Fiat Stilo Schumacher

Would suit: Probably not Michael Schumacher, if we're honest.

Price: £16,000
Maximum speed: 136mph, 0-60 in 8.5 secs
Combined fuel economy: 29.1mpg
Further information: 0800 717 000

I ordered a takeaway pizza the other day. I could have picked it up myself as the pizza place is only down the road, but that would have involved me doing that awkward walk holding the box as if it were a tray - like a mad person pretending to be a butler - so I had it delivered. It arrived late, as usual, and, naturally, was cold and smelt of soggy cardboard. As the delivery boy went through his usual, fruitless "looking for change" mime, I had a look at the box perched on the back of his scooter. On closer inspection it would seem that these "hot boxes" are, in fact, aerodynamically designed to create a constant flow of freezing air to their cargo. Nothing could remain warm in such a hostile environment, not even with a crust full of cheesy lagging. (If Jack Straw is genuinely worried about Iran's nuclear capacity he should simply dispatch a fleet of pizza-delivery boys to Tehran to hijack their core reactors and safely disable them during a couple of laps of Croydon.)

Inspired by this experience I set out to find the ultimate pizza-delivery car. It needed to be quick, obviously, but also compact for city driving and with a reasonably compliant ride so as not to disperse those carefully placed toppings. It needed to be a hatchback for swift loading and unloading, of course, and had to be cheap, as pizzas are already more expensive per pound than Sevruga caviar, despite the gargantuan profits they must be making on those small tubs of Häagen Dazs, and the fact that their chief ingredients are flour, water and Pedigree Chum.

I had planned to borrow various contenders - the Peugeot 206 GTi 180, Mini Cooper S, Renault Clio 182 among them - and carry out numerous pizza-related tasks, but in the end went with my best guess, gave Fiat a ring, and asked to borrow the limited- edition Schumacher Stilo.

And I was right. The Stilo's agility and gumption make it perfect for flitting through city traffic. It has a feisty 2.4-litre engine, but the key is in the urgency of its throttle response which makes it feel eager and frisky, like a Labrador puppy (although, thankfully, it can't jump up and lick you just after it has had a good go at its own genitals). What's more, they only make them in red, alerting other road users to clear a path, and, of course, it's made in Italy so there's always the teensiest risk it will stop working - after all, there has to be some element of chance to ordering a pizza.

And, in case you were wondering, the name Schumacher is nowhere to be seen, aside from a few barely decipherable "MS" squiggles. Fiat can't be blamed for trying to cash in on the chinny German's all-conquering Formula 1 success at the wheel of a (very) distant relation, and nor could it have been expected to predict the spectacular and, frankly, joyous end to his reign last season just as this special was being readied.

Instead it should be showered with praise for building a car with such an endearing spirit. It may not be as fast as Michael's company car, but it is more fun to drive in town than any Ferrari. If all those delivery fellows were to ditch their farty little scooters and drive Stilos instead, then we would all be certain to enjoy pizzas as hot and fresh as God (who, as we all know, is Italian and therefore would almost certainly consider placing pineapple on pizza a mortal sin) intended.

It's a classic: Fiat Dino
Years before Fiat bought Ferrari, the two companies collaborated on two sexy sports cars, the coupé and convertible versions of the Fiat Dino. These curvaceous lovelies boasted a genuine Ferrari V6 which could propel them to 60mph in eight seconds and on to a top speed of 130mph, quite something in 1966.

Oddly, the convertible and coupé were designed by different companies - the former by Ferrari's favoured design house, Pininfarina; the coupé, which appeared a year later, by Bertone. Sadly the Fiat/Ferrari combo didn't prove to be a great success and when production finished in 1973 many Fiat Dinos languished forgotten, their costly and complex oily bits proving too demanding for the pockets of Fiat owners, their mixed parentage tainting their appeal to Ferrari fans.

Today, prices for these cars remain relatively low, despite a rampant rust problem having reduced their numbers significantly. A good coupé can be yours for around £10,000 - just make sure someone else has paid for a recent engine rebuild.