The pistachio-crammed craze makes a superb gift. Our in-house perfectionist tries all the fiddly bits for you …

If you’re asking what on earth chocolate has to do with a city with an average annual temperature of 28C, then you must have been stuck in the desert for the past three years. Because, since its creation in the UAE in 2022, apparently to satisfy chocolatier Sarah Hamouda’s pregnancy cravings for pistachio and pastry, this bar has taken over the world. Though food (among those with the luxury of choice, at least) has never been immune to the absurdities of fashion, the internet has supercharged and globalised the process, so much so that pistachios, which back in January were dubbed “the new pumpkin spice” by this very newspaper, are now everywhere, from Starbucks lattes to Aldi mince pies.

The thing is, however, that whatever your thoughts on green, sugary, coffee-adjacent beverages, Hamouda’s Dubai chocolate developed for Fix Dessert Chocolatier has triumphed, because it really does taste as good as it looks: crunchy pastry, sweet chocolate and rich, slightly savoury nut butter are an incredibly satisfying combination, so a big bar of it is guaranteed to impress under the Christmas tree. Experience demands that I suggest you wrap it in a pet-proof box, however – emergency vet bills are no one’s idea of a great present.

The pistachios

This is the key flavouring – and, probably more importantly as far as the internet is concerned, colouring. The price of pistachios has surged since Dubai chocolate went viral, with the Financial Times reporting in April that global kernel prices had risen by a third “as demand for viral cream-filled bars strains supplies”. Given they weren’t cheap to start with, this isn’t an ideal choice of gift if you’re making presents for reasons of economy; that said, it’s still better value than a scarf they’ll never wear, or some novelty gin they’ll just give to the PTA raffle.

Many recipes call for pistachio cream, or crème as British supermarkets aspirationally style it, an Italian product that caters for the Italian sweet tooth. Not only are many wincingly sugary, but I’ve come across at least one that’s as little as 10% pistachio, so check the label if you’d like to save time by subbing in a ready-made paste here. Just mix it in with the pastry – you’ll need about 350g – and don’t be swayed by the colour, because most are dyed. I used one that was 45% pistachio, but it was sold behind the counter because it was £10 a jar, so you do get what you pay for in this department.

Though I use it in both US website the Kitchn and Swiss grocery giant Migros’ recipes, I come to the conclusion that it’s both better and cheaper to make your own. However, that’s only if you have a food processor to hand – Good Housekeeping, Rama, the creator behind Indicious Kitchen, and our very own Ravneet Gill all start from scratch.

Toast the nuts first, as Rama suggests – in side-by-side comparisons, my testers all remark how much nuttier hers tastes, though this may also be because she uses five times as many nuts as Gill does. That said, I do end up with a lot of leftover filling, so in reality it’s probably more like three times as many. As the pistachios are the point here, I’ve also been generous with them on the basis that there’s little point investing if you don’t use enough actually to taste them.

Green genie: skinned homemade pistacho butter (left) versus unskinned (right).

Rama is also the only person to bother skinning as well as shelling her nuts, which is annoying, given that she uses so many. But it really does make a difference to the colour of the end result, which compels me to recommend you do the same. You can buy vivid green, skinned nuts online, but at a cost, so to start with I’d advise going for the greenest nuts you can find (the ones I buy from Waitrose are greener than the smaller nuts from the Mediterranean food hall I visit in a fruitless search for skinned ones). Then, rub off as much skin as you have the patience for (I wouldn’t blanch them to loosen the skins, unless you’re also committed to drying them out properly afterwards; moisture is the enemy of crunchy pastry.) Rama whizzes her pistachios to a smooth cream, much like the one bought in a jar, while Good Housekeeping and Gill both stick with a coarser rubble of ground nuts, which I prefer – again, it’s all about keeping as much of the pistachio in there as possible, and that goes for texture as well as flavour. For the same reason, I’ve included a few roughly chopped salted nuts, too, but that’s very much not in keeping with Hamouda’s original sweet and velvety version, so feel free to leave them out,.

Though Rama makes absolutely everything else from scratch, she is refreshingly unapologetic about artificially enhancing the colour of the filling. You may shy away from this (though if you’ve admired a Dubai chocolate bar that’s green, rather than beige inside, be aware it’s probably not entirely natural). But bear in mind that the first bite is with the eyes, and a few drops of dye are unlikely to be the naughtiest thing you eat this Christmas. (Note: to make a cheaper alternative, you could use peanut butter, or indeed another nut butter of your choice, and adjust the sugar as necessary.)

The cream

Chopped nuts and crunchy pastry would make for a very dry mouthful indeed, which is why, even if eschewing the jarred creams, it’s imperative to add a few more ingredients to the filling. Gill and Good Housekeeping bind it with melted white chocolate, with the latter also adding double cream, an ingredient that sets off alarm bells in my head. I remember the words of Raphael Bachmann, owner of Confiserie Bachmann in Lucerne, on the Migros website: “It is important to use a high-quality [pistachio] cream containing plenty of pistachios … If the cream contains a lot of water or oil, the ‘angel hair’ will quickly become soft.” Even double cream is more water than anything else, so this is best avoided, yet white chocolate is, inevitably, very sweet. Again, the best solution comes from Rama, who uses milk powder (which gives the rich creaminess of dairy without any of the water) and icing sugar, allowing her to control the sweetness. Depending on what sort of chocolate you use, you may want to add more than I’ve suggested below, but don’t omit the pinch of salt: it’s key to bringing out the savoury flavour of the nuts.

The original bar also contains tahini paste, which brings both creaminess and a bitter edge that helps to stop it tipping over into sickly territory. As this is my version, however, I’ve decided I don’t want anything to muddy the flavour or colour of the nuts I’ve just spent time peeling. So, inspired by Bachmann, who mentions using a neutral oil instead, I’ve replaced it with flavourless coconut oil:, as this is solid at room temperature, it’ll help keep the filling firm enough to slice. Up to you.

The crunch

Kataifi, which looks like vermicelli, has a similar snappy texture to filo, but is made in strands that are perfect for soaking up syrup in dishes such as knafeh and baklava. If you have a specialist grocers nearby, they’ll probably have it in the fridge. Or you can buy it online, or even make it yourself, as Rama does – unless specifically noted otherwise, it’ll require toasting first to crisp it up. You could do this in a hot pan, as in the Kitchn’s recipe, but baking it, as Gill does, makes much more sense; not only does it cook more evenly without constant babysitting, but it can be done at the same temperature and therefore time as the pistachios. I have added butter to the baking tray, however, because, though not strictly necessary, it does taste nice.

If you can’t find kataifi, Gill and Good Housekeeping both mention Shredded Wheat as a substitute, which makes sense given they’re both made from wheat and come in long thin strands. Not being a big consumer of breakfast cereal, however, it’s not until I open the packet that I realise even dry Shredded Wheat is more chewy than crunchy, which makes Bachmann’s cornflakes a better choice, despite the difference in flavour.

The chocolate

Everyone but Gill uses milk chocolate, in obedience to the original FIX bar. Oddly, though I think I’ll prefer her dark version, it does threaten to overpower the filling, so, if you go down that route, don’t go too high with the cocoa content.

Only Rama tempers the chocolate – the process by which, after disrupting them with heat, you rearrange the crystals in a more orderly fashion than just allowing them to solidify haphazardly. I’ve included instructions below, though personally I wouldn’t bother, because all anyone is really interested in here is what’s inside the bar. You may consider it worthwhile. (It also has the benefit of keeping the bar firmer at room temperature, though if yours is melting in December in the UK, you’ve got the heating on too high.)

It’s easier to decorate the top of the bar to disguise any imperfections; the Kitchn’s green-tinged white chocolate is the work of minutes, yet looks surprisingly impressive once set into the rest of the chocolate.

The form

Deep chocolate moulds are easily found in cookware shops and online, but if you don’t have one, or would prefer to give a box of chocolates rather than one oversized bar, Good Housekeeping have you covered with their little Dubai chocolate balls (see the end of the method, if you’re tempted by those). Simple to make, even easier to eat. Otherwise, you’ll need a 25cm x 13½cm x 2cm chocolate bar mould.

Perfect Dubai chocolate

Prep 20 min
Cook 1 hr (assuming you’re skinning the pistachios, which takes about 20 minutes)
Set 3 hr+
Makes 1 large bar, or 18 individual chocolates

1 tbsp butter, or neutral coconut oil (optional)
100g kataifi pastry, roughly chopped, or cornflakes, roughly crushed
200g shelled raw pistachios
20g white chocolate, chopped (optional)
Green food colouring (optional)
160g milk or dark chocolate
2 tbsp neutral coconut oil, melted, or tahini
35g milk powder
20g icing sugar, or to taste
A pinch of salt
20g shelled salted pistachios, peeled and roughly chopped (optional)
25cm x 13½cm x 2cm chocolate bar mould (optional; see the final step if making individual filled chocolates)

Heat the oven to 180C (160C fan)/350F/gas 4 and, if using kataifi, melt the butter or oil on a shallow rimmed baking tray.

Roughly chop the kataifi, toss it in the melted butter, then bake, stirring every 10 minutes so it colours evenly, for about 30 minutes, until golden.

Remove and leave to cool. (If using cornflakes, simply roughly crush them into shards.)

Tip the raw pistachios on to another baking tray large enough to hold them all in a single layer, and bake alongside the kataifi for about 15 minutes, until they smell toasty.

Remove, leave to cool, then, to remove some of the skins, either rub them in a clean tea towel or shake vigorously in a large jar to help dislodge the papery husks, then remove by hand. (This is fiddly, time-consuming work – it took me 20 minutes – and is largely just for the colour, so feel free to skip if you can’t be bothered.) Roughly chop the nuts.

If using white chocolate, melt it in a heatproof bowl set over but not touching a pan of simmering water, then stir in a couple of drops of green food colouring, if using (be sparing, because if you add too much, the chocolate will seize).

Spoon or drizzle the white chocolate mix over the base of the chocolate bar mould, then put it in the fridge to set while you melt the remaining chocolate (put the mould on a board or baking tray to keep it level).

Chop the milk or dark chocolate (a bread knife is useful here). If you’re tempering it, melt 110g of the chocolate as above, to 40-45C for milk and 46-48C for dark, then stir in the remaining 50g until melted. Cool to 26C for milk and 27C for dark, then heat back to 29C (milk) or 31C (dark) before use. (Alternatively, just melt all the chocolate at once.) Tip just enough of the melted chocolate into the mould thoroughly to coat the white chocolate base, then chill for about 30 minutes until set firm.

Meanwhile, whizz the chopped pistachios in a food processor or blender until they’re fairly finely ground and beginning to look slightly oily and to clump together, then add the coconut oil or tahini and whizz again to combine. Add the milk powder, icing sugar and a pinch of salt and whizz again. Taste and add more sugar if you’d like it sweeter. If using salted pistachios, roughly chop them, then stir in.

Once you’re ready to fill, stir the kataifi into the pistachio mixture until well combined, then spoon into the chocolate shell and level the top, leaving a small gap around the edge; run a butter knife around the edge to help do this.

Re-warm the remaining melted chocolate, then pour it all over the top. Tilt the mould to help push the melted chocolate into the sides until the filling is entirely encased in chocolate.

Chill for at least two hours, or until completely set, before turning out.

For individual truffles, make the filling as above, then spoon small, roughly 20g balls of it on to a tray and chill for about 30 minutes, until firm, while you’re melting the milk or dark chocolate as above (depending on your generosity, you may need a little more than specified here). Dip the balls in chocolate to coat, then return to the fridge to set. Decorate with the green white chocolate once firm, or put a whole pistachio on top while the balls are still slightly tacky.

Dubai chocolate; is this one viral trend that’s passed you by, or have you fallen victim to its verdant charms? If you’ve had the original, did it live up to expectations, and how would you customise it to suit your taste (I like the idea of adding spices, for example)?

Story by The Guardian