I really, truly crave Italian food above all other types of cuisine. It’s almost always my first choice when we go out, and it is definitely something the better half and I can agree upon when choosing what to eat for dinner. Maybe it’s the Italian grandmother (I never had) in me, but I’m always figuring out excuses to simmer some kind of new tomato sauce on the stove. Garlic, onions, oregano, basil, rosemary, whatever I have, gets thrown into the pot and it always turns out fabulous. It freezes well, plus it’s an efficient way to use up all those summer tomatoes you grow. (Or, if you’re lucky enough, the ones you’re given by all your green thumbed gardener friends.)

But sauce doesn’t just have to be for pasta, you know! One of the most infamous and satisfying Flatout flatbread wraps I’ve made lately uses a bit of my favorite marinara as a dipping sauce. This is really lovely as an on the go meal, because the Flatout stays nice and dry until you decide to dip. But this wrap could cause some problems between you and your co-workers, because it smells like freshly delivered pizza. Which, of course, is absolute catnip to an office worker.

In fact, the first time I made this little number, I were working late towards a deadline, so I packed it up as an easy dinner to take in to work. Once I dug in, my fellow employees caught a whiff of my dinner and started circulating, no, swarming, around my desk to make sure I hadn’t ordered a whole pizza just for my own consumption. They were convinced a pizza was hiding somewhere in my office. They couldn’t believe something so deliciously fragrant could be made at home, and a few of them even asked for a bite! But I wasn’t about to share my Flatout wrap. Dinner is, and always will be, a very serious thing for me.

The beauty of this wrap is that you roll it up full of hearty flavors: the sweetness of the caramelized onions, the perfect balance of spices in the juicy sausage, the delicacy of the fresh mozzarella, and your favorite flavor Flatout all come together perfectly when dipped in your very own homemade (or otherwise, I won’t tell on you) marinara sauce.

Once my co-workers finally figured out that there was no pizza, I promised to make it up to them with a tray of these beauties the next time we have to work late. Which I hope doesn’t happen, but if it does, at least I know we will eat well.

From Amy at Flatout