I was born too late for the original muscle-car party, but I have spent enough nights in racing games and garage forums to know the hangover. In the 1960s, the Pontiac GTO lit the fuse, horsepower climbed faster than bell-bottoms, and young buyers wanted wheels that shouted. Then the 1970s arrived like parents coming home to a wrecked house. Emissions rules choked the horsepower race, the oil crisis made a trip for milk feel extravagant, and American muscle cars went soft. That is when I found the De Tomaso Longchamp: an Italian exotic with a Ford V8 heart, a muscle-car silhouette, and a weird secret. It was built in Italy, powered by an American engine, and never officially sold in America.

A Spaghetti Western on Wheels

I like to imagine Alejandro de Tomaso as a character from one of those Spaghetti Westerns: an Argentinian racing driver and industrialist who set up shop in Modena, Italy, and decided that reliable American V8 power belonged in exotic European bodies. He had already done it with the Pantera, which arrived in the early 1970s and took on Maserati and Ferrari with a 5.8-liter Ford Cleveland 351C making 330 horsepower. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when he looked at that engine and thought about building a more conventional two-door sports car around it.

That car became the Longchamp, named after a French racecourse and launched in 1973. From a distance, I swear it looks like a lost American muscle car. The silhouette is not far from a Plymouth Cuda or Dodge Challenger, but the details are pure Italian exotic: a long hood, a low roofline, and a stance that seems to dare you to find a gas station. In a racing game, it would be the oddball classic that nobody picks until they realize it has a secret weapon under the hood.

The Ford V8 That Wouldn't Die

Here is the irony that keeps me hooked. Around the time the Longchamp arrived, Ford was busy dismantling its own muscle-car engine range. In 1972, Ford scrapped the 351 Boss and semi-replaced it with an R-code 351 H.O., essentially a downtuned Boss with lower-compression open-chamber heads and a milder cam. By 1974, Ford had stopped making the 351C small block in America altogether, replacing it with the more economical long-stroke 351M and 400. Those engines were based on the Cleveland, but they were not the same animal. The Mustang had also become a dramatically downsized compact with an inline four-cylinder as standard. I have to laugh at the timing: America was killing the muscle car, and Italy was quietly keeping the flame alive.

De Tomaso was not going to use a 351M. That engine was rated at around 150 horsepower, less than half of what the Cleveland once made, and it would have been useless in a huge coupe. So when Ford USA wrapped up Cleveland production in 1974, De Tomaso turned to Australian-produced 351C engines for the Longchamp. That means the Italian car really did continue the Ford muscle-car upward trajectory when the USA was killing it off.

What It Was Like to Drive

The Longchamp was designed to take on the Mercedes SLC, which was pulling upmarket customers in Europe and America. The idea was a boxy, imposing luxury coupe that used V8 power for effortless performance. Tom Tjaarda of Ghia penned the design, and I can see hints of the Lancia Marica and the angular Maserati Kyalami in it, but the three-box profile is not a far stretch from the muscle-car heyday.

The Australian 351 Cleveland V8 had a four-barrel Holley carburetor, large valves, and free-breathing head porting for 330 horsepower. That was enough to hit 60 mph in 6.4 seconds and a top speed of 149 mph. Pretty much every Longchamp used a Ford C6 automatic gearbox connected to the rear wheels through a limited-slip differential, but a few ZF manuals were also made. The suspension was double wishbones, coil springs, and telescopic dampers. The 4,000-lb two-door even had twin fuel tanks and twin fuel pumps, which sounds less like luxury and more like a warning label.

I would not call it a nimble track toy. I would call it a grand tourer with a muscle-car soundtrack, the kind of car that makes a boring highway feel like a side quest.

GTS, GTS-E, and the Rarity Problem

At the start of the 1980s, De Tomaso introduced the Longchamp GTS and GTS-E. These had huge, protruding fiberglass wheel arches, Campagnolo alloys, and quad headlights, making an already muscular car look like it had been hitting the gym. I love the GTS-E for the same reason I love rare game skins: it is excessive, a little ridiculous, and impossible to ignore.

The Longchamp was made until 1989, with 409 examples built. Sadly for anyone in America who noticed Italy had started making a Ford-V8-powered muscle car, it was not officially available in the US. It is estimated that around 20 were brought over as gray imports. That rarity is part of the appeal, but it also makes the market messy.

The 2026 Price Hunt

Pricing a Longchamp is like pricing a rare drop in an MMO: there is an average, but it does not tell the whole story. The average price has been around $40,278, but that number hides wild swings. One nice-looking GTS-E went for just $28,415, but that was back in 2013. A great-looking GTS failed to sell for $117,500 in 2024. Probably the best guide is a yellow, highly original 1976 car with 42,000 miles that sold in Italy in 2024 for $40,278. As I look ahead to 2026, that still feels like the ballpark for a decent Longchamp, if you can find one.

For comparison, the Maserati Kyalami is a similar-looking 1970s grand tourer with a company V8 in 4.2- or 4.9-liter form. It is even rarer, with just 200 built, and its average used price is around $50,251. I would happily cross-shop both, but the Longchamp wins my heart because of its Ford V8 secret and its strange place in muscle-car history.

So yes, the 1970s killed the American muscle car party. But the Longchamp is the after-party I never knew I needed: an Italian coupe with an Australian-built Ford heart, a Mercedes SLC target on its back, and a story that feels like a secret level. If I ever find one for sale in 2026, I will treat it like a limited-time event. I will bring a friend, a camera, and probably a fuel card. 😄