Gyros Kotopoulo se Píta is chicken gyros specified in píta, and the se píta (in the pita) part is the whole reason the name exists: it pins the format to the soft Greek flatbread wrap rather than a plate, a bun, or a sliced loaf. The píta here is the pillowy, slightly puffed Greek round, not the hollow pocket style; it is meant to be brushed with oil, warmed on the grill until supple, and rolled around the filling. The bread is the headline component.
A good píta is the difference between a wrap that holds and one that falls apart in the hand. It goes onto the grill or flat-top to take a little color and turn pliable, then the build follows in order: tzatziki spread across the warm round to the edges, hot shaved chicken straight off the rotating cone, tomato, raw onion, and a handful of fries. The bread is folded and rolled tight, then twisted into paper so it holds its shape from the first bite to the last. The failures are bread failures. A píta served cold and stiff cracks along the fold and spills; one that is gummy and underbaked turns to paste under the tzatziki; one rolled loose lets the fries and onion slide out the bottom.
Because the format is the point, the wrap stands on whether the bread can carry the load without tearing or going soggy. The chicken still has to be shaved crisp at the edges and the tzatziki thick enough not to flood, but it is the warm, supple, properly rolled píta that makes the package work as something you eat with one hand on the move.
This is the format-pinned branch of the chicken family. The plain wrap, the everything build, the lemon-oregano seasoning, the tzatziki-forward version, and the plated merída each lead from a different variable, and each deserves its own article rather than being crowded in here. What defines se píta is the bread itself: warmed, pliable, rolled tight, doing the structural work the whole sandwich depends on.