The Fastest Egg in History: Ferrari’s Forgotten Easter Special

While the rest of the world is busy unwrapping novelty-shaped chocolate and wondering how many Creme Eggs is too many, let us take a moment to appreciate the most glorious, most expensive, and arguably most unhinged Easter egg the world has ever seen — the Ferrari Uovo.

Yes, Uovo — which is Italian for egg. Not the kind you boil. Not the kind you poach. But the kind you race at 140 mph through the Italian countryside, while dressed in a tailored wool suit, because you are Count Marzotto and that’s just how things are done.

This is a story about nobility, eccentricity, hand-hammered aluminium, and a Ferrari so strange-looking it makes a Fiat Multipla look like the Mona Lisa.

The Easter Origin Story (Sort of)

Let’s be clear: Ferrari never set out to make an Easter-themed car. Enzo was many things, but a seasonal chocolatier he was not. He built cars to go fast, to win races, and to remind Maserati that they were, in fact, quite rubbish. But somewhere in the post-war haze of 1950s Italy, the stars aligned, and a car was born that looked suspiciously like an egg laid by an intergalactic chicken.

The story begins with Count Giannino Marzotto, a man of aristocratic blood and apparently infinite style. This was a chap who raced in a full double-breasted suit and tie, because fireproof overalls were for peasants. He was also not entirely convinced that Ferrari’s early designs were slippery enough through the air, and that what the world really needed was a Ferrari that looked like it could hatch at any moment.

So he commissioned Carrozzeria Fontana — a coachbuilder from Padua — to create something extraordinary. And what they came up with was part sports car, part UFO, and all theatre.

The Shape of Things to Come (Possibly from Space)

The Uovo is based on the Ferrari 166 MM, one of the most successful cars of its day. Underneath the madness is the classic Colombo V12, a 2.0-litre masterpiece that sounds like a Pavarotti solo being played on a chainsaw. But what sets the Uovo apart is the bodywork.

Imagine, if you will, that you’ve taken a normal car and melted it slightly in the sun. Then you stretch the front out like a giant nose, squint the headlights like they’ve just heard a bad joke, and taper the rear until it looks like something you’d roll down a hill on Easter Sunday. That’s the Uovo.

It’s not beautiful in the traditional sense — no one’s sticking this on a wedding cake — but it’s magnificent. Purposeful. Completely bonkers. And in the best Ferrari tradition, it was built to win.

Racing Eggs

This wasn’t just a concept car built to dazzle Count Marzotto’s dinner guests. The Uovo was a serious racing machine. It was lighter than the standard 166 MM, with that slippery teardrop shape designed to slice through the air like a Cadbury’s knife through fondant.

Marzotto entered the Uovo in the 1951 Mille Miglia, the notoriously bonkers Italian road race that’s essentially Wacky Races for adults with a death wish, and for a while, it worked. The Uovo led the race, until it was let down by a mechanical failure.

Typical Ferrari, really. Blisteringly fast until something Italian falls off.

Later, the Uovo also competed at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, which is a bit like entering a Fabergé egg into a boxing match. Again, reliability wasn’t its strong suit, but the spirit was there — a one-off, hand-built, egg-shaped Ferrari giving it the beans against the best sports cars in the world.

You have to admire the sheer audacity of it.

The Price of Yolk-Based Performance

Fast forward seventy years, and the Uovo has become one of the most valuable one-off Ferraris in existence. When it last went to auction in 2017, it fetched a shade under $5 million — not bad for something that looks like it belongs in a sci-fi remake of Chicken Run.

But that’s the beauty of the Uovo. It’s not just a car. It’s a statement. It’s a reminder that there was a time when wealthy counts could stroll into a coachbuilder’s shop and say, “I’d like a Ferrari, but could you make it look more… ovular?”.

In today’s world of wind-tunnel-optimised, regulation-limited, committee-designed supercars, the Uovo is a glorious relic of a more romantic, chaotic era. It wasn’t built to tick boxes. It was built to tickle the imagination. And tickle it does.

The Perfect Easter Story

So this Easter, while others unwrap their chocolate bunnies or debate whether the Mini Egg is the pinnacle of human achievement (it is), take a moment to raise a glass — or a bonnet — to the Ferrari Uovo.

To the Count who wore a tie at 140 mph.

To the coachbuilder who looked at a Ferrari and thought, “Let’s make it look like something laid by a metallic goose”.

To the V12 that sang its opera into the hills of Tuscany.

And to a time when the world was a little bit madder, a little bit braver, and a lot more fun.

Because if there’s one lesson we can take from the Uovo this Easter, it’s this: being a bit weird isn’t just okay — it might just make you legendary.

Happy Easter, everyone!

Written by: Paul Pearce