How the Crumbl Cookie Sydney pop-up exposed our city’s gullibility for viral foods, and gave us a masterclass in culinary scams.

Sydney’s obsession with “social media famous” food has made it a prime target for culinary scams. In a city where viral Instagram moments and TikTok food reviews hold as much value as the meal itself, it’s easy to see why people fell for the Crumbl Cookie Sydney deepfakes.

Sydneysiders have a deep-seated desire to chase the latest “it” food, lured by a false sense of exclusivity—even if that thing turns out to be a cleverly marketed fake.

What is Crumbl and why do people care?

Crumbl Cookies, the U.S based bakery built their cult following to be experienced first through a screen: every aspect of their brand is perfectly curated from the pastel pink box, the ooey-gooey cookies, the weekly flavour drops.

Crumbl has been riding high on the wave of social media since its founding in 2017. Known for oversized cookies topped with elaborate flavours—think Oreo-stuffed and churro-themed—its signature is the warm, fresh-out-of-the-oven appeal. The chain grew from a single store in Utah to over 1,000 locations across the U.S., Puerto Rico, and Canada. But here’s the thing: Crumbl doesn’t exist outside North America. At least, it didn’t—until Sydney became ground zero for a pop-up event that seemed too good to be true.

In late September, a TikTok account under the handle @CrumblSydney announced that the viral cookie brand would be making its Australian debut in North Bondi. The promotional videos, similar to those on Crumbl’s official TikTok page, promised a one-day-only event, rescheduled twice due to “flight delays.” By the time the event finally took place, hundreds of Sydneysiders had lined up for hours in anticipation, ready to drop $17.50 AUD (roughly $12 USD) on just one cookie.

For comparison, in the U.S, Crumbl cookies sell for around $5 USD each. The price hike raised eyebrows, but that didn’t stop the crowd. People were ready to indulge in what they thought was the Crumbl experience, only to find out they had been duped.

As videos of attendees biting into dry, crumbly cookies hit TikTok, excitement quickly turned into outrage. The feedback was swift and merciless. Turns out, the cookies were flown in from the U.S, meaning by the time eager customers got their hands on them, the cookies were four to six days old. It didn’t take long for social media to figure out that Crumbl were not behind the event when the @CrumblSydney TikTok, that appeared to be posting from the company, disappeared.

Crumbl’s co-founder, Sawyer Hemsley, responded on TikTok: “You need to try them fresh. P.S. this pop-up is not affiliated with Crumbl Cookies.” Official statements from Crumbl expressed excitement over their brand’s international appeal then they revealed that Crumbl will actually be coming to Sydney – for realsies.

This type of thing has happened before

This isn’t the first time Sydney has fallen for a food scam, it’s not even the first time this year. A few months ago, YouTuber Stanley Chen orchestrated a fake five-star ramen restaurant in Surry Hills. Using his living room as the setting and instant noodles as the main dish, Chen duped influencers and customers into believing they were experiencing a high-end culinary affair. He named the fictional restaurant “Nise Janagaru Ramen”—with “Nise” meaning fake in Japanese—adding an ironic twist to the hoax.

Influencers, eager to catch the next viral trend, lined up for the free dining experience, only to find out later they had been eating microwaved meals in someone’s living room. Chen’s experiment highlighted how easily food culture can be manipulated in a world where the lines between real and fake blur, especially when social media gets involved.

Chen’s prank wasn’t about the money—it was about exposing a truth. “Restaurants are charging $30 to $40 per plate, and they’re just microwaving meals that were made offsite,” he explained.

Why does Sydney fall for these culinary deep fakes?

So, why does this keep happening in Sydney? The answer lies in the city’s unrelenting hunger for viral food trends. Sydneysiders aren’t just chasing after food; they’re chasing after moments—experiences that make for good content, that get shared, liked, and reposted. It’s not enough for something to taste good; it has to look good, and be hard to get.

Blood’s Bakery’s viral “ramen pie” caused a city-wide frenzy in August, with locals and tourists alike waiting months to get their hands on one. The bakery, run by former Mr. Wong chef Alex Lynn, operates on exclusivity and scarcity—two key elements that fuel Sydney’s viral food economy. Orders are only taken via Instagram, and the waitlist stretches on for months.

Sydney Travel Guide placed an order in early August and were thrilled to hear that we’ll be able to pick up our three pies…in November. By then we’ll most likely be chasing them with a bona fide Crumbl cookie – or whatever the next must-try-bite it is that TikTok tells us we’re nothing without.