The spice bag wrap takes an Irish takeaway invention and folds it into bread. The spice bag is a chip-shop and Chinese-takeaway item: crispy fried chicken, chips, sliced onion and peppers, and chilli, all tossed together in a salt-and-five-spice seasoning and served loose in a bag. The wrap puts that whole tumbled mixture inside a flatbread or tortilla instead. The defining fact is that this is a finished composite dish being contained rather than a filling being assembled, and the engineering problem is holding a loose pile of chips and fried chicken in something you can carry, which is exactly the job a wrap exists to do.
The craft is containment and keeping the crisp. The fried chicken and chips bring all the texture, so the wrap has to defend it: the components go in hot and as dry as the dish allows, because steam trapped in a rolled flatbread softens a coating that was the whole reason the spice bag works. The seasoning is the load-bearing flavour, a heavily salted, spiced, chilli-hot dry mix that needs no sauce, which suits the wrap because a wet dressing would both soak the bread and drown the seasoning. A flatbread or tortilla is warmed so it folds rather than cracks around an awkward, chunky, uneven load, and it is rolled tight enough to bind chips and chicken into something that holds for a few bites rather than spilling along its length. A cooling element, if any, is minimal and applied in a stripe, because the dish is built to be carried by its own seasoning.
The variations track the takeaway counter. A garlic or chilli mayo run through it answers the dry seasoning with a cool, wet counter for those who want one; the chips can give way to rice for a heavier fold; the same crispy spiced chicken without the chips is the leaner reading. The wider chicken-and-flatbread shelf, the tikka and tandoori wraps, the kebab, sits alongside it as the same containment problem with a different marinade. Each deserves its own article rather than being crowded in here.