By Rosie Lu
Dubai chocolate matcha latte. Dubai chocolate chewy cookie. Dubai chocolate Crumbl brownie. Dubai chocolate–labubu?
Every other scroll on social media presents the crack of an ostensibly adorned milk chocolate shell, breaking into two oozing halves in the hands of just about every single foodie influencer. But you already know what that mysterious filling is. Glorious vibrant green pistachio cream and crispy shreds of knafeh, the epitome of sensory heaven.
Just three years ago, this high-end confection was born from the pregnancy cravings of British Egyptian Sarah Hamouda, who launched FIX Dessert Chocolatier in 2021 to create the original Dubai chocolate, wittily dubbed “Can’t Get Knafeh of It.”
In a stroke of luck for Hamouda and FIX, Dubai chocolate, from its humble beginnings, was inherently an easily marketable product. The sensory appeal of the crisp snap of chocolate and the textural contrast between shell and filling hits every single algorithmic and psychological trigger that facilitates virality in short-form videos. In 2023, TikTok influencer Maria Vehera (@maria.vehera)’s 37-second taste test garnered 127 million views, kicking off the craze.
A second aspect of the chocolate bar’s marketing miracle lies in its exclusivity. The original bar is available only through FIX Dessert Chocolatier in the United Arab Emirates, sold in small-batch drops that generated anticipation and demand. FIX’s production capacity was limited due to the extensive time and craftsmanship required to hand-pour each bar and hand-paint decorative details. The “Dubai” designation likewise brings exotic implications, evoking images of sports cars, gold-plated jewelry, and towering skyscrapers–when in reality, it was a combination of everyday ingredients by a small startup. This perceived luxury combined with scarcity created a culturally unique reputation, a rare glimpse of Middle Eastern culture with a story to tell.
Within weeks, #dubaichocolate climbed its way up to 13.8 billion views, as users across various platforms scoured the web for the authentic bar, some even planning group orders or coordinating dessert tourism. Thousands of food bloggers and home bakers unable to obtain the original chocolate shared their own recreations. That’s when the major corporations and big brands began to catch on. Lindt’s pistachio chocolate bar, Starbucks’ Iced Dubai Chocolate Matcha, Baskin-Robbins’ Dubai Chocolate Shake, all made one thing clear: the chocolate-pistachio-knafeh combination was in, and rather than simply being the marketing phenomenon, it was now being used as a tool to drive sales.
The trajectory of Dubai chocolate has become a new precedent for how food trends grow, monetize, and die in this era of social media-driven marketing. TikTok’s algorithm propelled the product from foodie-niche to on global supermarket shelves in less than a year. For local bakeries, pop-up kitchens, and small chocolatiers who were able to respond quickly, this instant virality meant a temporary spike in sales from a limited-edition Dubai chocolate flavor, as they lacked the distribution to truly capitalize. Meanwhile, for large-scale enterprises like Lindt with easy access to resources and labor, massive profits were gained from producing a more accessible version of the Dubai chocolate bar, despite their late entry into the market nearly half a year after the viral moment.
What can a marketing analyst take from the Dubai chocolate phenomenon?
Firstly, design products for the camera. Dubai chocolate was born for film—glossy brown shell encasing rich green filling, intertwined with crispy pastry threads—unintentionally optimized to stop a thumb mid-scroll and capture the attention of potential catalysts of virality.
Second, create scarcity by controlling the production scale and raising prices. Although this tactic contradicts traditional capitalist logic, which seeks to maximize profit by distributing as quickly as possible, FIX’s drop culture and geographic limitations forced customers to work for a taste, increasing value and demand.
Just as counterintuitive is the importance of sharing intellectual property—allowing consumers and competitors to recreate or take inspiration from the product, rather than playing copycat police. Every baker’s homemade version, every restaurant’s inspired dessert, every food franchise’s reproduction was free advertising, and catered to the excess demand that the small startup lacked the production capacity to meet.
Whether Dubai chocolate maintains relevance or becomes another finicky, worn-out trend like 2016 “unicorn” rainbow foods, its marketing miracle is a sign of the rising power of social media in fueling consumerism. For aspiring entrepreneurs and established corporations alike, that means a low barrier to viral success, but with it, a progressively compressing timeline that forces them to chase trends, never able to predict whether they’re hitting the jackpot or arriving at a party that’s already ended.