Glasgow Golden Beer Cask
Batch 1 2022 Release | 58.5% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
A solid effort, although the beer cask takes centre stage on this one
A Siren’s Call
Hanging on the wall of Martin’s office, just above the laser printer, is a certificate that reads “WSET Level 2 Award in Spirits”. Framed beautifully - and given pride of place. Wedged between his CPA licence and an ‘Accountancy Practice of the Year’ nomination, it could be argued the accreditation is slightly out of place.
Martin has never been employed in the spirits industry, he has never worked in drinks retail, and the closest he’s come to bartending is the souvenir Springbank Cage bottle he has behind the bar at his local whisky establishment.
Professionally, he specialises in tax audits, yet for eight hours a day, one day a week, for several weeks, Martin sat in a small room sniffing from nosing glasses, memorising the regional regulations of Baijiu, and agonising over blind tastings set out in front of him.
The certificate is a badge of passion, validation, and possibly, just maybe, ego…
This certificate personifies the crux of a phenomenon I have been pondering over for a while; which is, why are an increasing number of whisky enthusiasts deciding to spend their hard earned cash on formal qualifications they will almost certainly never ‘use’ professionally.
Let me be very clear from the offset: I am not writing this from a place of any hard-line judgement. I am not immune to the seductive siren call of the WSET qualification myself. In fact, quite the opposite. I write this piece selfishly, from a place of existential crisis, trying to understand my own hunger for the qualification.
For the uninitiated, WSET qualifications are a series of certifications providing those who wish to participate with an education on wine, spirits, and beyond – covering production, tasting, regulations and the factors that shape style and quality. It is a secret society where the handshake is the ability to identify obscure acronyms. There are no entry requirements – and you do not need to be in the industry to partake. It’s purely pay-to-play.
With nearly 150,000 new pupils opting to enter the WSET whirlpool annually - a figure that continues to increase each year - there does not appear to be any satiation in the hunger for further education across the drinks landscape.
It’s important to note that with no official survey ever published, it’s impossible to offer an exact industry vs hobbyist split within this top-level figure; however, it has been acknowledged that a significant portion (with some potentially unscrupulous reports indicating this figure may have even crossed the 50% mark) of students are not in the drinks trade – and never intend to be.
To understand where this growing hunger among enthusiasts originates from, I’ll look inward toward my own desire to gain the qualification. Why do I feel determined to fork out the cash and try to achieve this accreditation?
Am I trying to prove something to myself? That I’m a ‘serious’ drinks enthusiast; that I can actually hold my own with other, more experienced, whisky aficionados? Am I preparing myself for some hypothetical panel of whisky experts that I’ll never be asked to participate in?
Perhaps ‘the fear’ still runs deeper than I thought—the fear of a botched blind tasting. The fear of conjuring that tasting note so wildly off-base it stuns the table into silenced judgement.
Or… is the reasoning something much worse?
Am I trying to prove something to other people? Is this whole thing about my own ego? Do I feel the need to know more than other whisky enthusiasts? Do I feel that in a world of armchair experts and subreddit juries – I want to stand a little taller than the others.
I’d love to say I’m above all that. But I am also self-aware enough to know I may enjoy the thrill that runs down my spine as I get to casually drop those actually-that’s-not-quite-correct retorts into conversations around a set of empty copitas. So… let’s not rule anything out.
Maybe it’s not even about knowing more - maybe it’s just about avoiding getting caught not knowing something. And that’s a different energy entirely. There is no definitive answer to these questions, so they continue to hang around, like the finish of an over-oaked bourbon cask.
I’ll continue to ask myself “am I learning this because I love it—or because I want people to know how much I love it?” Is it a statement to the world that “I am studied.” The drinks equivalent of posting your Duolingo streak on Instagram.
Maybe these questions – or are they just self-doubts by now? - are not even unique to whisky enthusiasts. Maybe they are concerns which are transferrable to other interests and passions. Is it a symptom of a much wider infection? A growing professionalisation of leisure.
Are we in a world where enthusiasts can no longer just be concerned with passion and fun – but the whole thing eventually becomes an arena for self-funded Continuing Professional Development. Are there night school classrooms filled with amateur photographers book-worming their way through exposure theory? Garage guitarists sitting exams in music history? Ork enthusiasts working tirelessly on their HND in Warhammer 40000?
Could evidenced knowledge even have become a new status symbol within the world of drink?
With the whisky market in its current condition where consumers are proving to be more frugal, and less likely to flex their buying power; less likely to continue to amass a wide collection of bottles and rarities that can be shown off – could validated expertise be the new flex?
Within enthusiast communities, the ability to identify column and pot distillation isn’t nerdy anymore - it’s necessary. So, are some now feeling the pinch to take it further? If that is the case, then where is the line? Where does that end? For there is a thin line crossed when a passion starts to feel like more of an obligation, and it’s amazing how fast that can happen. When fun turns into ‘I’m gonna need flashcards for this.’
Some of the darker tones taken in this piece could have me asking myself, “so is this whole WSET thing just a bit of a scam then? Have they over-reached into the hobbyist community to offer a laminated, pricey sense of validation to the eager but insecure?”
Possibly.
But honestly? I don’t think so. Sure, for many students, a WSET certificate will never be professionally ‘useful.’ Maybe they won’t get a salary boost for correctly identifying ethyl butyrate in a rum cocktail. Maybe their colleagues already actively avoid them because they’ve misunderstood their obsession with worm tubs.
And, maybe, that’s fine.
In an economic environment where it feels like the world is obsessed with increasing productivity and ROI, there’s something great about the concept of taking something this seriously purely for the love of it.
The pursuit of mastery should be respected and valued - even when it leads ‘nowhere’.
Perhaps the true value of spirits education isn’t utility - it’s passion. A further step in the whisky journey. It’s just love. Love, dressed as a framed certificate. Perhaps, quietly but proudly hung on your accountancy firm’s wall.
Anyway, I’m getting the notebook out, the fluted copita, the water-dropper, the jug, the glass topper and the camera. I’ve got a whisky to enjoy…
Review
Glasgow 1770 Small Batch, Golden Beer Cask Finish, Batch 1, 2022 Release, 58.5% ABV
£59 paid, now sold out but occasional batches expected
I am not usually one to come away from a whisky festival with a bottle in hand.
It’s not that I haven’t tasted anything that would be worth purchasing – quite the opposite. However, after several hours of drams, both my palate and my decision-making are usually too compromised to be trusted. So, I leave the bottles where they are and return for them on another day, if they still call to me.
At the National Whisky Festival at SWG3 in Glasgow in May 2022, however, I broke my own rule. One taste was enough – this bottle came straight off the festival shelves and quickly home with me.
I was already a fan of Glasgow Distillery’s releases – and not just because I can reach their place with a gentle jog from my front door, I promise.
This bottle is from Batch #1 of the Small Batch “Golden Beer Cask Finish,” one of only 365 bottles released. As expected from Glasgow, it’s natural colour, non-chill-filtered and bottled at 58.5% ABV. For those with spreadsheets, it’s from cask 19/1373.
Distilled in 2019 and first matured in an ex-bourbon cask for just over three years, it was then finished for an additional year in a Pedro Ximénez (PX) sherry cask.
The twist? That very cask had previously also held Innis & Gunn’s Golden Beer, which had spent three months maturing in the wood before bottling.
Did you follow that? It’s all a little bit like whisky inception…
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
A solid effort, although the beer cask takes centre stage on this one
Nose
An immediate hit of grain and biscuit — digestive biscuits at first, but sweeter, richer, more buttery, like the smashed base of a cheesecake.
A welcoming wave of caramel and melted toffee is present, with a soft vanilla note that occasionally leans fruity, even reminding me of Dr Pepper at times.
Still, the sweet, biscuity cereal tones remain the most dominant throughout.
With water, the sweetness fades, giving way to a much drier profile of grain and oats.
Palate
The sweetness carries through from the nose, with vanilla fudge and melted caramel leading the way. Yet the palate ventures into new territory beyond what was found on the nose, with dried fruits — raisins, peach -- and a lift of citrus from orange peel.
A dryness builds towards the back, likely from the beer’s hop influence. This brings spice and a woody texture, ending in a bitter, hoppy tail that lingers. Right at the end, there’s a slow, warming, burn from the alcohol — unsurprising at this ABV.
With water, the profile shifts noticeably. The sweetness recedes, replaced by darker notes, more reminiscent of a Dunkel beer than a golden ale: rich, bready, and malty. The dried fruit remains, though it leans more towards plum than raisin or peach.
The Dregs
This is a strong effort from Glasgow Distillery. As experiments go, I think Dr Frankenstein would be rubbing his hands together enthusiastically at this one. It’s packed with flavour and impressively well rounded for a whisky of its age.
Each cask leaves its fingerprint: bourbon bringing a smooth vanilla sweetness, PX adding dried fruit with citrus, and the beer cask layering in malt and dry hoppiness. I think it’s fair to say that in this batch, the PX influence feels the quietest — something also reflected in the whisky’s beautiful golden colour.
That said, I think it’s also fair to say that this whisky won’t be for everyone. The drying hoppiness and the alcohol burn on the tail may read a little hot for some palates, although I find it well within my comfort zone.
I know Batch #2 leaned more heavily into the sherry cask influence, but rediscovering this bottle at the back of the cupboard has me hoping Glasgow keeps pushing forward in this direction with future iterations of the series.
It’ll give me even more to study in future.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. AM
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