See social media taste tests of Trader Joe’s Dubai chocolate bars
Trader Joe’s debuts its own take on viral Dubai chocolate bars for just $3.99.
The latest creation from the Achatz Handmade Pie Co. will cost you $40, assuming you can find one. If that seems like a lot, it’s only because you haven’t seen an actual Achatz apply the finishing touches.
And, theoretically, the tab could be higher.
“One of our concerns,” said Zach Achatz, “is how can we make something fun and indulgent, with all these steps, without having it cost a billion dollars?”
Fortunately, he and his team found a way.
The Dubai Chocolate Silk Pie, inspired by both Valentine’s Day and clever marketing, is scheduled to arrive Monday, Feb. 9, at the nine Achatz or Pie Collective stores scattered from Armada to Livonia.
Only 200 or so will be created, Achatz told me, so scarcity and scale also help explain the price. Then there’s the skyrocketing cost of pistachios, which I bet you didn’t know was a concern, and also tariffs, even though 90% of what goes into the average Achatz pie is as native to Michigan as potholes.
If all of this strikes you as an excessive amount of attention to lavish on a pie, I should note, I absolutely agree.
What drew me to the shop in Beverly Hills on Thursday to meet with Zach, 32, the co-owner, test chef and business development officer, was actually the part about Dubai chocolate.
The rest was just bonus information, like how Achatz’s mom, Wendy, started selling pies from a folding table at the Armada farmer’s market when she was in her late 20s and had five kids. Or how the company buys its milk from an Amish farmer in Mio with what Zach Achatz describes as “happy cows.”
Or how the company decided to brand some stores as Pie Collective in case it expands out of state, since even Armadaganders seem to have trouble pronouncing Achatz (ACK-its).
Oh, and that jump in pistachio prices? It turns out a lot of companies have started churning out Dubai chocolate, and there are only so many edible seeds of the Pistacia vera tree to go around.
An ancient tradition since 2022
Dubai chocolate is not a spanking new phenomenon. The Free Press’ omnipresent food writer, Sue Selasky, found it drawing crowds in a cup with strawberries at Yogurt Co. in Wyandotte 11 months ago. But once I started seeing it near the cash register at all the swankiest convenience stores, I realized it was here to stay.
Zach Achatz estimated it has been all the rage since mid-2024. The Kilwins fudge shops now offer it in truffles, buckeyes and sundaes. Kemnitz Fine Candies in Plymouth has a $16.95 Dubai Bar pinned to the top of its website.
Middle Eastern bakeries sell Dubai chocolate, and so do Mobil stations. Get ready for pumpkin spice Dubai chocolate, and then Punkin Spicies Dubai Chocolatey Girl Scout Cookies.
What makes Dubai chocolate Dubaian is the use of pistachio paste and finely chopped phyllo strands known as kadayif. Phyllo is also known as filo, kadayif is also known as kadaif, kataifi, kadaifi, katayef or kataif, and they were first combined with milk chocolate — still mostly known as milk chocolate — in 2022.
A Dubai chocolatier marketed the handmade bars as “Can’t Get Knafeh of It,” which is probably funnier if you know that knafeh is a popular regional dessert made with kadayif, stretchy cheese and sugar syrup.
Even then, it’s Dubaious.
Building a sweet solution
There are no cheeses or cheesy jokes in Achatz’s Dubai pie, which Zach has been experimenting with for weeks. The sample he brought from the company’s headquarters and testing lab in Chesterfield Township on Thursday was still a prototype, he said, with minor tweaks likely before the pie officially rolls out.
It came from the factory with a minimally sweet chocolate crust, layered with pistachio silk and chocolate silk. Then he finished a slice on-site with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, a sprinkling of crushed pistachios and some thin pieces of chocolate bark with baked-in kadayif.
The kadayif had been a problem, he said. In a candy bar, held firmly in place by other ingredients, it’s nicely crunchy. Mixed into the pistachio silk, it felt like spider legs, or at least what he thought spider legs might feel like in a rich dessert.
Melded with the chocolate bark, it gave a perfect, non-arachnid crunch.
“Sometimes the best part of something is the smallest part,” Achatz said, and often, the greatest satisfaction comes from solving a kadayif-size problem.
Selling smells and smiles
The company’s larger problems include tariffs on things like hardware, pie tins and the equipment operated by the farmers who source the all-natural ingredients.
Then there’s the general constant headache of being in the food business.
Achatz’s father, Dave, the child of caterers, used to own a diner in Armada. That’s where he met Wendy, his best waitress and future wife.
Consider that a plus. As for minuses, Zach Achatz said, “My dad told me the same thing his dad told him — ‘Open a hardware store.’ “
A hardware store, though, probably won’t get much response if it asks its social media followers to suggest a new wrench. Achatz asked customers to recommend a new flavor, and Dubai chocolate swamped a list of also-rans on the order of chocolate peanut butter, plain old pistachio and plainer old raspberry.
“Sometimes we need to do things because they’re fun,” Zach Achatz said, even if they’re also pricey.
He tries to remind himself, he said, that when he pulls 160 pies out of the oven and his knees buckle from the aroma, he’s manufacturing smiles.
On that note, as perhaps the first civilian to have a piece of a piece of Dubai Chocolate Silk, I feel duty bound to offer a review.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but with the delicate but decadent flavors, the hands-on effort, the careful control of the sweetness level, the arresting textures and yes, the crunch of the kadayif, I say I can’t get knafeh of It.
In the eternal battle between pie and cake, Neal Rubin is Team Pie. Reach him at NARubin@freepress.com.