It's more raised coupe than true SUV, so does this make the Ferrari Purosangue the market's best tall car to drive? I'm in Italy to drive the new Ferrari Purosangue SUV and the last time I came here to drive a Ferrari, the weather was fine, with temperatures into double figures, if a little overcast and dewy.There’s a reason why I mention this (I’m not auditioning to be the next Wincey Willis). Had it been Britain and on Autocar’s own tab, we’d have headed merrily directly down the pit lane – but sorry, said Ferrari’s people, it’s too cold for the tyres to work properly around the company’s Fiorano test track, so we’d have to wait and sip coffee until the day warmed through.So I talked to an engineer instead, and while I can’t guarantee he avoided using the phrase ‘SUV’, he told me the company had only committed to making a tall car when it was sure that it could be a true Ferrari (ditto the electric car that’s still two years away).That high car, though – the Ferrari SUV, 4x4 or crossover, as you prefer (they don’t use the terms but pretend not to be offended if you do) – is here now. And there’s no question of waiting until the roads have warmed up to test it or I’d be here until April. It’s mid-January as I drive, although not as you read. In fact, today we’ll go in search of the worst conditions that roads between Italian ski resorts can throw at us.Before driving the Purosangue I’m gently asked whether I’ve driven an Aston Martin DBX, a Lamborghini Urus or a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. But I’m assured – as each of those companies would also try to persuade me – that the model operates in a sphere of its own, with no direct rivals.They’re curious sorts of arguments, these. There may be a certain mechanical accuracy to the fact that each offering is unique, in the same way that a fish-and-chip supper isn’t strictly a direct rival to a curry. But the short of it is that when Friday evening comes around and you can’t be bothered to cook, it will be one or the other. That fires to a (relatively) muted idle in the car’s gentler driving modes, although it still sounds rich and expensive. At low speeds, the ride mooches gently, and while the steering is quick, with a 14:1 ratio similar to the GTC4’s, it doesn’t feel as nervous as that, nor any other recent front-engined V12 Ferrari.They’re always pointy and direct, and this is similarly accurate, with two turns between locks, but its initial response feels more measured. The cabin feels further forwards than those coupés/breadvans too, even though the engine is set well aft. And as a result, I feel like I’m located in the middle of the car, rather than over the back axle holding onto the reins of a flighty front end. There’s a natural feel to it all, even though active rear steer is one of a raft of standard technologies.There are more of those, most notable among them being the new Multimatic spool-valve dampers whose workings – and how they replace anti-roll bars. Lordy, they’re complicated, but they’re brilliant – able to resist the car’s pitch and roll as confidently as they do.They have three settings: soft, medium and (surprise) hard, and for my money, in all of them bump absorption is better than any car with 23in wheels and 30-section tyres has any right to be. This is largely a quiet, confident, mature car, more solid-feeling than any Ferrari I can remember. A sound cruiser, I’d think – although we’ll have to spend motorway time with it later.With that, though, body control is also tight. If the Purosangue were sufficiently light, the 48V suspension system would put enough force into itself to pitch into corners, rather than just roll less than expected.How much less than expected? The Purosangue isn’t that tall (at one point I follow a Citroën Berlingo and figure its driver and I are at about the same level), but the Ferrari’s body movements are tied down like I wouldn’t expect from even this modest elevation. It’s taut, controlled and agile for a car with an engine this size out the front, and with this kerb weight and this ground clearance. And boy, it’s fast. It has a very honest big-coupé vibe.I try to think of the car it reminds me of most and ultimately settle not on its 4x4 competitors from the Volkswagen Group or Rolls-Royce but an Aston Martin, although not the obvious one either. Instead, I imagine what an Aston Martin Rapide would have been like if it had been jacked up, not to full SUV levels but to those of cars that get Dakar, Allroad, Cross Country or Scout monikers.The similarities are there: aluminium chassis, front-mounted V12, transaxle, four seats, modest hatchback. The Ferrari bods are right: this isn’t an SUV, it’s a Rapide Allroad. It’s a GTC4 Cross Country or an FF DakarUltimately, its handling balance has that presence. There’s enough power here to overwhelm sticky rubber on a warm day (where it would do 0-62mph in 3.3sec and 193mph), so with winter tyres on glassy, frosty or truly snowy gravel tracks, it has a surplus of hoon.The Purosangue slides and skips and yumps with supreme ease and balance and then settles again with the deftness of a stage-ready rally car. It’s not an off-roader, and it’s not a 4x4, really. It can’t even tow anything. But as a way to have the V12 Ferrari experience in a relaxed setting without having to worry that you will crack four-grand’s worth of carbonfibre on a driveway ramp, look no further.Anow, no snow, it doesn’t matter: this car is a laugh. The DBX 707 is perhaps more flamboyantly keen to shout. The Cayenne Turbo GT is perhaps the only road-pummelling SUV that would equal the Purosangue for seriousness. And I still think this car will never be quite as cool as a GTC4. But this is a car Ferrari had to make, and while you excuse some car makers their SUVs because they let them make enough money to produce the sports cars we love, the Purosangue does for its maker what a lot of SUVs can’t for theirs: it actually feels like a Ferrari.