Pita me Tyri is the cheese pita in its plainest, most honest form: a flatbread wrapped around cheese and nothing much else, eaten across Greece as a quick, cheap, filling thing. The model description pins it exactly, cheese pita with feta or grilled cheese, and that fork in the road is the whole point. One version is cold, crumbled feta folded into bread. The other is warm, a slab of cheese griddled until it slumps and the pita picks up color from the same pan. They taste like different foods that happen to share a name.
The cold build is fast. A soft round pita gets a smear of something to carry salt and fat, often a brush of oil, then a generous broken-up block of feta, sometimes a few rings of raw onion or a tear of tomato if the cook is feeling generous. Roll it tight, eat it standing up. The warm build asks for a hot, dry surface: the cheese, usually a firm yellow Greek cheese or thick-cut feta, goes on the griddle or into the folded pita and presses down until the outside crisps and the inside goes molten and stretchy. Good execution shows in two places, the bread and the salt balance. A pita that has been warmed through and lightly toasted bends without cracking and tastes of toasted flour rather than steam. The cheese should be assertive but not punishing, which means a cook who tastes the feta first and adjusts, skipping added salt when the cheese is already aggressive. Sloppy versions are cold in the center, a cool pita around fridge-temperature cheese, or so salt-heavy that three bites is the limit. Grease pooling at the seam is the other tell: too much oil, not enough heat.
Variations track region and ambition. Some cooks fold in a spoon of honey or a crack of pepper, turning it sweet-salty like a stripped-down pastry. Others slip in a leaf of mint or oregano, or swap the feta for graviera or kasseri for a nuttier, less briny result. At the more built-out end it edges toward a small grilled cheese sandwich on flatbread rather than a snack, and the related cheese-and-greens phyllo pies it borrows from, the tyropita family, deserve their own article rather than being crowded in here. Held to its simplest definition, Pita me Tyri lives or dies on two decisions: how good the cheese is, and whether the bread got hot.