Lee Hae-rin is a City Desk reporter at The Korea Times, covering social issues, tourism and taekwondo. She is passionate about speaking up for the rights of minorities, including women, LGBTQ+, people with disabilities and animals as well as discovering the latest makgeolli trend in town. Feel free to reach her at lhr@koreatimes.co.kr.
Dubai chewy cookies have Koreans lining up once more
A customer holds Starbucks' new item, a Dubai chewy roll, inspired by "Dujjonku," short for Dubai chewy cookie, at a store in Seoul, Monday, building on the ongoing popularity of the trending dessert in Korea. Yonhap
By Lee Hae-rin
Latest dessert craze exhibits Korea’s high-intensity ‘FOMO’ culture, collective passion
On a freezing January morning in Seoul, Jung Ha-ru stood shivering outside a bakery. She had been there since 8 a.m., all for a chance to snag a Dubai chewy cookie.
“I saw it on Reels,” the 17-year-old said. “I had to see what the hype was about.”
She wasn’t alone.
By 8:55 a.m., the shop had already distributed all 75 waiting tickets to a diverse crowd ranging from students in padded jackets to middle-aged couples and retirees, all united by the same mission.
The Dubai chewy cookie — a pistachio cream and kadayif-stuffed pastry wrapped in chewy marshmallow — has become a nationwide obsession, sparking a frenzy that defies logic.
Dessert crazes are nothing new in Korea.
From honey butter chips to tanghulu, the country has a track record of explosive, short-lived consumption crazes. In each instance, Koreans have shown a relentless dedication to the trend, braving hourslong “open run” lines and scouring the nation for the treats.
But the Dubai cookie craze has reached unprecedented heights.
Online users even crowdsourced a real-time Dubai chewy cookie map, updating which cafes and shops still have stock, turning the hunt for the dessert into a nationwide, GPS-guided treasure chase.
In an effort to curb a blood shortage during winter, the Korean Red Cross began offering the cookies as incentives. The results were staggering: Several centers across the nation saw donations surge, and some even doubled or tripled.
Boxes of Dubai chewy cookies for blood donors are displayed at the Red Cross Blood Center in Yeonsu District, Incheon, Jan. 20. With blood donations declining due to the winter break and a seasonal flu outbreak, the Korean Red Cross Incheon Blood Center organized the event to lure in donors. Newsis
“Koreans have a strong collectivist culture and a heightened fear of missing out (FOMO),” said Kwak Geum-hee, a psychology professor at Seoul National University. Not participating in a trend feels like being left out of the conversation in a highly competitive society, she explained.
This social anxiety, amplified by algorithms that push viral content, creates this FOMO. “Young people especially worry: 'Everyone knows about this. How can I not?'” Kwak said. “It becomes about belonging.”
Inha University consumer studies professor Lee Eun-hee adds another dimension. “Koreans have an exceptionally strong bandwagon effect,” she said. “When people gather somewhere, we instinctively join. There’s competitive energy, a desire to participate. It’s not necessarily negative — it creates economic dynamism.”
That economic boost is real. A sushi restaurant owner reported that Dubai chewy cookies, not premium fish, became his best-selling item, accounting for a 30 percent revenue increase. Movie theaters, soup restaurants, hardware stores and even blanket retailers have begun selling Dubai chewy cookies, recognizing its ability to drive foot traffic and boost margins regardless of their primary business.
The craze has even birthed a new cultural term: “Dubai chewy kimjang.” Kimjang refers to Korea’s centuries-old tradition of community members gathering to prepare massive batches of kimchi to last through the winter. By applying this term to the trending cookie, Koreans are framing the intense, labor-heavy process of home-baking these treats as a communal ritual.
Choi Yong-hee, 33, a Seoul office worker, recently organized a Dubai chewy kimjang with his wife and their friends.
“I thought the craze went way too far,” Choi said. “I would have never done it on my own. But when my wife and friends suggested doing it as a New Year’s gathering activity, it seemed good enough to share.”
Over two and a half hours in his living room, they produced 30 cookies in assembly line fashion, inspired by the precision and choreography of professional chefs they watched on Netflix’s “Culinary Class Wars.”
“The cost to buy compared to homemade was roughly half the price, and there was a genuine festive joy in laboring together as a group,” Choi said. “But the process was grueling and I don’t think I’ll do it again.”
People wait in line to purchase Starbucks’ new Dubai chewy roll at a store in Seoul’s Jongno District, Tuesday, as the craze for Dubai chewy cookies continues across the nation. Yonhap
Meanwhile, beyond the social pressure lies a more personal motivation: using trends as a means of expressing affection. Several Koreans said that taking part in the trend and sharing the hard-to-obtain dessert with loved ones created memorable moments in their daily lives.
A student from Gyeonggi Province surnamed Kim, 21, traveled over an hour to Seoul just to find the cookies for her family last weekend. Despite the biting cold, she kept her hands out of her pockets to keep the paper bag from being crushed.
When she encountered a series of negative reviews of the cookie on social media on the way home, she was hit by a wave of exhaustion. “It felt as though the time and money spent in the cold might have been for nothing,” she said.
The reaction at home, however, was different. Her parents rushed out to greet her, amazed that she had secured the “rare treat” they’d heard about on the news. Though they had enough for everyone, the family of four gathered at the table and sliced one cookie into quarters to share and did the same with the second and third one.
“It wasn’t life-changingly delicious,” she admitted. “But seeing my family laugh and say, 'Now we’ve finally tried it too!' — that felt like genuine happiness.”