Chips (צ'יפס), the Israeli word for french fries, earns a place in a sandwich catalog because in Israel the fries are not a side. They go inside. A pita or laffa of falafel, schnitzel, shawarma, or sabich routinely gets a fistful of hot fries packed in among the salad and sauce, and the resulting thing is a sandwich whose structural logic depends on the fries being there. The angle is texture and starch. The fries add weight, a crisp-then-soft contrast against the bread, and a neutral potato base that soaks up tahini and amba without going to mush too fast. Treated as filling rather than garnish, they change what the sandwich is.
The build, when fries are the point, is simple and has a narrow window. The potatoes are cut thick to medium, fried so the outside is crisp and the inside stays fluffy, salted while hot, and tucked into the bread at the last moment so they hold their structure for the first several bites. Done right, you get a sandwich where the first bite is crisp and the fries are still distinct from the salad around them, the salt of the potato playing against the acid of pickles and the bitterness of tahini. Done wrong, the fries are limp out of the fryer, or they have sat in the steam of the wrapped pita long enough to turn into a wet starchy band that drags the whole sandwich down. The fix on the cook's side is heat and timing: fries that go in screaming hot and a sandwich that gets eaten soon after it is wrapped. The order itself usually has to ask, since many stands keep the fries separate unless told otherwise.
It varies by what the fries are joining. In a falafel pita they sit against the chickpea balls and pickles, a double-starch sandwich that leans on the tahini and s'chug to keep it from being heavy. In a schnitzel laffa they are part of a near-meal wrap, fries and cutlet and salad rolled together. In a shawarma pita they catch the fat and juices coming off the meat, which is the version where the fries arguably do the most work. Standing apart from all of these is the loaded-fries direction, fries plated and topped with tahini, amba, pickles, and chopped salad with no bread at all, which is a dish in its own right and belongs under its own treatment. Inside the bread, though, chips are the constant Israeli move that turns a filled pita into something denser, saltier, and more filling than the sum of its named parts.