Por Frank Sabatini Jr.

Gone are the burgers, chicken wings and rambunctious canine gatherings that defined Doghouse Bar & Grill. In its place is a newcomer from Los Angeles known for amping up the flavors of street foods common throughout Europe and the Mediterranean.

Spitz takes doner wraps, sandwiches and french fries to a twisted, lip-smacking level, which can become redundant at times depending on how you order.

Named after the rotating “spits” on which stacked meat is cooked, most items on the menu capture the combined tang of pepperoncinis, copious red onions, creamy feta cheese and garlicky tzatziki.

We started with the Berliner fries, which brought forth the additional inclusions of shredded cabbage, carrot slaw, cucumbers, olives and house-made red sauce spiked with Fresno chilies.

Unlike carne asada fries or poutine, these are too exquisite to be labeled “drunk food.” The toppings were salad-fresh and the thin-cut spuds buried underneath were intriguingly crispy. Yet if sold from a late-night cart parked outside any Uptown watering hole, they’d sell well and effectively remove the sway from your stagger. Not even in Berlin’s top nightlife neighborhoods are trendy fries served with this much pizzazz.

The company’s founders, Bryce Rademan and Robert Wicklund, are former college buddies. They launched their first location near Occidental College several years ago after Rademan spent a semester in Europe and fell in love with doner kebabs. They’ve since opened three other outlets in L.A. and two in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Spitz’s San Diego outpost is co-franchised by Jordan Bernhardt, who managed locations in Los Angeles before deciding to abandon his plan of attending law school to invest in the eatery’s steady success.

Here, the brightened space features a large cocktail bar stocked with vats of house-made sangria and craft beers, plus sturdy wood high tops, chandeliers crafted from aluminum work lights, and walls painted with abstract imagery by L.A. artist Devon Paulson.

The back patio, formerly a free zone for dogs under the previous tenant, now embodies freshly stained picnic tables and an AstroTurf area for playing cornhole. Table games such as Jenga and Connect Four are scattered throughout the eatery as additional welcome mats to competitive-minded hipsters.

We proceeded to chicken “doquitos,” a Mediterranean spin on taquitos encased in delicate tubes of deep-fried lavash bread. Filling options also include cheese or gyros-style beef-lamb strips shaved from the spit.

Draped in a riot of ingredients, the pepperoncinis, onions, zesty feta and garlic aioli in particular left little chance for the spiced chicken inside to sing. Yet despite the similar concert of flavors we encountered on our Berliner fries, we agreed the dish was novel and dynamic, unlike anything you’ll find in traditional kebab shops.

A side order of cinnamon-kissed falafel set atop a scoop of smooth hummus served as a viable palate refresher before clutching our hands around a wrap and sandwich.

I chose the “zesty feta donner” with chicken nestled between two puffy slices of grilled focaccia bread. This time, green bell peppers and cool tzatziki emerged from the recurring base of tangy ingredients. I could also taste hints of seasoning infusing the poultry and the juice of ripe tomatoes oozing out the sides. Augmented crisp romaine lettuce layered somewhere within, it rivaled some of the wondrous creations I’ve encountered at Ike’s Place in the HUB Hillcrest Market.

The sandwich was as equally gigantic as the “street cart doner” wrap boasting compact swirls of beef-lamb shavings contained in fresh lavash bread sourced from a Middle Eastern baker in L.A.

There were no pepperoncinis in this item, which we didn’t mind. The meat was abundant and flavorful. And the veggies maintained their character, despite the presence of garlic aioli and tzatziki.

Other menu choices include doners with fries tucked inside; another capturing hummus, kalamata olives and feta; and a “doner basket” that features pretty much the entire menu in one huge piling – fries, salad, falafel, crispy garbanzos, olives, fried bread, a choice of meat and more.

The food at Spitz is bold and stimulating, although we learned that requesting light onions or pepperoncinis – or none at all in certain cases – might be the way to go when ordering multiple dishes. Such customizations will bring you closer to the well-prepared proteins and sauces that are at the heart of these zingy constructs.

—Frank Sabatini Jr. es el autor de “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), y comenzó su carrera como escritor local hace más de dos décadas como miembro del personal del antiguo San Diego Tribune. Puedes localizarlo en [email protected].