I was just kind of standing in my kitchen one night, staring into the fridge like it owed me money, and I thought—what if I made something that feels like a hug but tastes like a party?
And that’s how this trifle happened. Not because I planned it. Not because I had a Pinterest board screaming at me. But because sometimes, dessert picks you.
This Strawberry Chocolate Brownie Trifle? It’s messy in the best way. Layers of rich brownie, creamy chocolate pastry cream kissed with Kahlua (or milk, no judgment), fresh strawberries that pop with every bite, and clouds of whipped cream that float like they don’t have a care in the world.
It’s not fussy. It’s not trying too hard.
It’s just good. Like, “I’m-gonna-lick-the-spoon” good.
And the best part? You can make it with leftover brownies. Or store-bought. Or even a box mix if that’s your vibe today. I won’t tell.
Let’s talk about what you need. And why each thing matters.
Okay. Let’s go through this like we’re chatting over coffee. No pressure. Just real talk.
½ batch of Fudgy Chocolate Brownie (or 6–8 pieces, 2x2 inches)
Look—brownies are the backbone here. They’re not just filler. They’re the mood. Chewy, dense, chocolatey. Like dessert’s favorite sweater. If you bake your own, awesome. If you grab a few squares from last weekend’s batch? Also awesome. Even a boxed brownie works. Just make sure they’re not dry. Dry brownies turn sad in trifles. We don’t want sad.
1 batch Chocolate Pastry Cream (about 3 cups)
This is where the magic thickens—literally. It’s not pudding. It’s better. Creamy, rich, with a chocolate depth that doesn’t scream but whispers “I belong here.” It holds up the layers, keeps things cool, and plays well with alcohol. Which brings us to…
4 tbsp Kahlua (or milk)
Kahlua? Yeah. It’s coffee-flavored, slightly sweet, and it marries chocolate like they’ve been dating since high school. Adds warmth. Depth. A little oomph. But—and this is important—if you’re not into booze, just swap it with milk. Same effect, zero drama. The pastry cream won’t miss a beat.
8 oz fresh strawberries, chopped
Fresh. Not canned. Not frozen. Fresh. Because texture matters. You want that juicy snap. That bright red pop against all that chocolate. Wash ‘em, hull ‘em, chop ‘em into little gems. Some people sugar them. I don’t always. But if your berries are tart? A tiny sprinkle of sugar helps. Or just wait—next tip.
Icing sugar (powdered sugar)
This one’s optional, but sneaky-good. Dust it on the strawberries before layering. Why? It pulls out the juice, sweetens them up, and makes the whole thing glisten like it’s been kissed by summer. Don’t overdo it. Just a light snowfall.
Whipped Cream – 1 cup chilled whipping cream (or 1¼ cups Cool Whip)
I get it. Whip cream = effort. Cool Whip = zero effort. Both work. But if you can, whip your own. There’s something about fresh whipped cream—light, airy, barely sweetened, with vanilla humming in the background. It’s like a cool breeze on a hot day. Just don’t over-whip. We want soft peaks, not stiff declarations.
1 tbsp sugar + 1½ tsp vanilla extract (for whipped cream)
Sugar balances. Vanilla wakes things up. Together? They make whipped cream taste like it came from a bakery, not a bowl in your kitchen. But your kitchen is the bakery now. So. Win.
Alright. Time to build this beautiful mess.
Grab a cold bowl. Cold cream. Cold beaters. Seriously—chill everything if you can. Warm cream = sad, slow whipping.
Pour in the cream, sugar, vanilla. Start slow. Don’t blast it. Let it thicken. Then go a little faster. Stop when it holds soft peaks. You know—when you lift the beaters and the cream curls over like a wave about to crash. That’s it. Not stiff. Not soupy. Just right.
Set it aside. Gently. Like it’s sleeping.
Stir in the Kahlua. Watch it swirl. Smell that? That’s dessert. Coffee and chocolate, best friends again.
If using milk, just stir it in. It’ll loosen the cream a little—good for layering.
Set it aside too. Everyone gets a rest.
Cut brownies into bite-sized pieces. Not too small. You want chunks. You want to feel them.
Chop strawberries. Not too fine. Little cubes. Let them sit if you’re sugaring them. Juice will pool. That’s flavor. That’s good.
Grab 4 clear glasses. 12–14 oz each. Mason jars? Wine glasses? Cute little dessert cups? Yes. All of the above.
We’re layering. Like a cake, but vertical. And easier.
First layer: Brownies.
Press a few pieces into the bottom of each glass. Don’t be shy. Pack ‘em in. This is your foundation. Your chocolate base camp.
Second: Chocolate pastry cream.
About 3 tablespoons. Spoon it over. Let it seep into the cracks. Get cozy.
Third: Strawberries.
A sprinkle. Maybe a dusting of icing sugar here. Just a whisper.
Fourth: Whipped cream.
A fluffy cloud. Not too thick. Just enough to make you smile.
Now—repeat.
Brownie. Pastry cream. Strawberries. Whipped cream.
You’ll have two layers per glass. Maybe a little more if your glasses are tall.
Top it off with a few extra strawberries. Maybe a mint leaf if you’re feeling extra. Or just leave it naked. It’s still gorgeous.
Pop them in the fridge. At least an hour. Overnight? Even better. Cold makes flavors meld. Lets the brownie soak up a little cream—just enough to soften, not drown.
Serve cold. Always.
Okay, real talk.
No one wants mush.
But here’s the thing—a little softening is good. It’s supposed to be moist. Not crunchy.
But too soggy? That’s when your brownie turns into chocolate mush. And no.
So—here’s how to walk the line:
I said it before. I’ll say it again.
Clear glasses.
Why? Because this thing is pretty. You want to see the layers. The red. The brown. The white. It’s like a dessert rainbow.
Layer with care. But don’t stress. It’s supposed to look homemade. A little uneven? Good. Means you made it.
And if one glass gets more strawberries? Cool. That’s the one you eat.
Leftovers? Lucky you.
Cover each glass with plastic wrap or a lid. Fridge. Up to 2 days.
After that? The brownie keeps soaking. The strawberries break down. It’s still edible. Still tasty. But not perfect.
Best served within 24 hours. Honestly? Best eaten the same day.
Can you freeze it? Nah. Trifles don’t freeze well. The texture goes sideways. Whipped cream turns grainy. Strawberries get weird. Just… don’t.
Make it fresh. Eat it fast. That’s the rule.
This trifle isn’t about perfection.
It’s about pleasure.
And if you’re eating it with a spoon, in your pajamas, at 10 p.m.?
Then you’re doing it right.
No baking required if you’ve got leftover brownies (lucky you). Just layers. Pretty, messy, delicious layers. Chocolate, strawberries, cream—stacked like dessert’s greatest hits. It’s the kind of thing that looks fancy in a mason jar but comes together while you’re still deciding what to watch on TV. Perfect for potlucks, date night, or just because Tuesday deserves dessert too.
Servings 4
* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily value may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.
I’m a London-based food writer, recipe developer, and home cook who has been passionate about cooking for over 15 years. What started as a way to recreate my mother’s traditional dishes turned into a lifelong love for experimenting with flavors, writing about food, and helping others feel more confident in the kitchen.
