The Clydeside Distillery Stobcross
Inaugural Release 2021 | 46% ABV
Score: 5/10
Average. In A Good Way.
TL;DR
It’s new, exciting and holds real potential for the future
Aesthetics - The Appreciation Of Beauty
I was recently asked what I looked for when I first discovered that whisky was for me – what bottle designs stood out enough to get my attention, and subsequently my money.
My reply was that I didn’t take that approach – the flavour profile of a whisky was what drove my purchasing decisions, bottle or label design be damned. I mean, if I was driven by aesthetics, my second bottle of whisky purchased certainly wouldn’t have been Glenfarclas – that thing is just hideous. Before all you ‘farclas fans start puffin’ your chests, let me just say that a brown bottle with off-white and vivid red labelling is more “Budds” cream-soda than it is whisky, for me. And that scribbly logo… euch.
Over the past 1.5 (ish) years that I’ve been drinking whisky, I’ve used the “flavour characteristics first” approach for most of my purchases, because ultimately that’s all that really matters to me. I’m a whisky drinker for the drinking, not the flipping, bragging or any other nefarious activity. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate bottle designs because let me tell you, I spend way too much time scrutinising the presentation of a whisky – my photographs hopefully back me up on that – but only once I have it in my hand can I fully assess the efforts undertaken. Bottle design, you could surmise, doesn’t really factor into my buying psyche, therefore.
“Lindores, Nc’Nean, Lochlea, Wire Works, Raasay and Glasgow 1770 are all putting big efforts into how their whisky looks. ”
Well there’s an exception to every rule, and even in the time between January 2021 and today, I’ve noticed more and more effort being spent on the shelf aesthetics of whisky bottles. Some distillers and independent bottlers go for simple bottles with interesting labels – North Star and Alistair Walker’s Infrequent Flyers range spring to mind… and I’d probably stick Benromach in here too. Some go for simple bottles and simple labels such as Springbank, Kilkerran and Aberlour – or the rather obscure “Oak & Palomino & Oxidation & Sitting” bottling of…stuff from…someone.
However, it’s the new distilleries that are making a concerted effort to stand out from the crowded shelves with unique bottle designs – Lindores, Nc’Nean, Lochlea, Wire Works, Raasay and Glasgow 1770 are all putting big efforts into how their whisky looks. These bottles, with their faceted glass and multi-textured, spot UV glossy labels, are turning heads like mine, because of my love for photographing whisky. I lost out on all Lochlea and Wire Works releases to flippers, despite gunning for them purely because I wanted to photograph them, and I was sort of relieved because it might have been an exercise in style before substance…and goodness knows I’ve been there before.
There was one new release however, from a new distillery no less, that I did decide to buy purely because of aesthetics. It had nothing to do with FOMO, or Instahoot. No, it was one that resonated with me for an entirely unrelated reason, a subject that I’ve spent a while immersed in: the Industrial Revolution. Yes, quite. That phase of the late 19th century when rapid technological development in materials processing and industrial scale manufacturing changed the trajectory of modern life as we know and understand it. But what, Dougie, has this got to do with a whisky bottle? Settle in my children, for I am about to go on a quick whimsical tour of Scottish industrial history.
I’m fascinated by Scotland’s impact on the modern world and it inspires the work I do; like it or not I'm a vehement patriot. I love being Scottish, I love sounding Scottish, looking Scottish (burnt), living, working and breathing in Scotland. Everyone I meet, speak to on the phone or cross paths en-route to destinations, upon hearing my accent light up at the prospect of Scotland. Staff in continental airports, upon seeing the saltire embroidered on my work jacket, jest about Scotland and their affection for Scots over our nearest neighbour. In all the research I do, no matter the topic, I’ve found a Scottish thread. I can state therefore, with absolute authority, that the modern world was invented by Scots. You’re welcome.
As the world adapted to wondrous new technologies appearing as the 20th century loomed, like steel processing, alloying, mechanics and automation, Scotland was at the forefront. In fact, Scotland has always been at the forefront of most modern inventions. You name it, we have a hand in it, from shipbuilding to car and lorry manufacture, textiles to bridge engineering, lighthouse construction, lighter-than-air transport, life-extending medicine, televisions, telephones, video games… the industry of “making stuff that changed the world” has always been a massive part of Scottish history. Of course I’m purposefully avoiding the industry of whisky, which is the best industry in Scotland today. But Scotland has a particularly rich heritage when it comes to shipbuilding, most of which occurring in the glorious industrial city of Glasgow.
One of the biggest beneficiaries in the rise of heavy industry at the turn of the 20th century was a chap called William Beardmore, who had his fingers in many industrial pies but most notably made really great ships on the River Clyde. He became the leader of the industrial pack when, during the First World War, his myriad construction companies were contracted to manufacture most items of which the government were calling for, from motorcycles to munitions. The allegiance to the admiralty gave rise to his prominence in airship building and, at his facilities near Inchinnan, built the R34 airship that would travel across the Atlantic ocean and back, becoming the first airborne craft to complete a return transatlantic crossing. Prolific would be the word to describe the Beardmore legacy, so much so that his name crops up in far afield places such as the Antarctic glacier across which Captain Robert Falcon Scott travelled on his way to conquer the South Pole. Beardmore was a major benefactor of the Terra Nova Expedition and thus his name was given to that stretch of ice. Scotland is everywhere.
Another area of particular fascination for me are the blazers of life-saving light; the stoic, ever-present obelisks of mariner comfort: lighthouses. Here again we see Scotland leading the charge, through the Stevenson family and the incredible engineering minds they possessed. From Bell Rock to Skerryvore, Dubh Artach, Ardnamurchan Point and beyond, the Stevenson’s designed and constructed most of the lighthouses dotted around Scotland’s coasts. Innovating as they went, the Stevenson’s ushered in a modernised era of mariner safety and a legacy of supreme ocean engineering that lives on to this day. Would it surprise you to learn that in the 200 years since the Bell Rock was constructed on the subsurface rocky outcrop, in horrific conditions, that it has required little to no maintenance? Such is the engineering precision of the hand-carved Cairngall granite blocks making up the base that, despite being submerged for 20 hours of the day, the Bell Rock lighthouse has withstood the crushing power of mother nature’s North Sea might for more than two centuries, becoming the oldest “sea-washed” lighthouse still standing, and one of the seven wonders of the world.
I say all that to say this: when I first clapped eyes on the bottle of Stobcross from the Clydeside Distillery, I had to have it for no other reason than it encapsulated most of what I'd come to learn and love about Scotland, Glasgow, Beardmore and the Stevenson’s. There has clearly been a huge amount of effort to design this bottle, label and indeed the distillery itself, which is plonked right on old Queen’s Docks on the banks of Glasgow’s famous river, – the location where these historical ships and industrial factories used to operate.
The glass bottle is straight-sided and stoic, weighty and stable, tapering quickly towards a light wood, etched stopper. The glass surface is graduated in the break between the wrap-around label, with evenly spaced markings; I assume this is to gauge measures but, given their distances, I expect rather large pours to match these levels. Maybe if you’re sharing the bottle it matches two drams. The bottle design and silhouette feels like it belongs in the early 20th century, like an accompaniment to a steel lunch box found on the scaffolds beside a riveter. But it’s the graphic design that really sold it – the red and off-white, half-and-half background has instant lighthouse appeal.
Gold foiling for the logo and glossy black bold markings, in beautifully industrialised custom typeface, echo Scotland’s steel industry magnificence. Everything combines to make this inaugural release from the distillery a visual delight. This is the first time I’ve bought a whisky based on aesthetics, and despite complete admiration for the bottle design, I only hope the stuff inside lives up to this elevated level of hype I’ve bestowed upon it.
Review
The Clydeside Distillery Stobcross, 46% ABV
£45 available from Clydeside online or any good retailer
A tightly attached cork protests loudly on removal, but once popped, my taste and smell journey with Stobcross begins. I poured a Bruichladdich Classic Laddie and a Glen Scotia Victoriana alongside, because I felt the Classic Laddie would be a suitably youthful companion, and the Victoriana would give me a potent flavour blast to contrast them both. The colours of the Stobcross and Classic Laddie whisky are remarkably similar, so I’ve had to mark one of the glasses to avoid confusion, and set them aside for a while as we wait for Roy to appear on the latest v-pub.
The smell of the Stobcross is inert to begin with, not much to discern and it took a good 20-30 minutes before things started to appear. The Classic Laddie, with 4% more ABV to assist, is quicker to reveal its secrets. However, once the Stobcross is alive it’s quite interesting.
Glasgow, bottled
Nose
Wood polish, apple and unlit cigars are joined by tobacco in a plastic poke. Pencil shavings and a youthful omni-sweetness found in most other young spirits.
Palate
Young malty sweetness with the boiled sweet notes of most youthful inaugurals. Honey, apple with a sugar sweetness. Floral with a hint of coriander maybe – it’s herbal anyway. Honeyed fruits and a short finish.
The Dregs
The Stobcross is obviously youthful, and it’s light, fruity and uniformly enjoyable, but to expect anything more than this would be unreasonable – it’s the first output from a completely new distillery. The flavour components that I’m finding show it’s got the makings of really interesting whisky – the tobacco whiffs in particular, but it does, like Wally said when we were chatting about it recently, feel like it could have benefitted with a little bit longer in the cask if only to develop the hints of flavours that always seem to be at arms reach. You want to grab hold of them and give them a good scrutinising, but they remain elusive, distant and frustratingly fleeting. A good opening gambit however and, with more time spent in the casks to develop the interesting flavour signatures, there’s no doubt the spirit flowing from the Clydeside Distillery will deliver the experience hinted at in the Stobcross. There’s a lot to be excited about and, with new and re-established distilleries popping up each year, Clydeside is perfectly positioned to become a prominent presence in what’s becoming Glasgow’s 21st century industrial revolution.
Score: 5/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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