Back in 2003, the NYT told the story of Julian E. Montoya, the man who would be Burrito King.

Starting with one taco stand at Sunset Boulevard and Alvarado Street in the late 1960s, he had built a burrito empire stretching from Anaheim, Calif., to Bogotá, Colombia.
It started like the American dream, only be to troubled by rivals, backstabbing, managerial missteps and the trappings of success.
One night in the mid-1970s, he said, he showed up unannounced at one of his restaurants, put on an apron and started working as a cashier.

Mr. Montoya recalled: ”The cook took me aside and said, ‘Here’s how it works: You take the order; you take the cash and don’t put it in the register. At the end of the night we split it.’ ”
Montoya didn’t go to the police, complaining of red tape. Soon his former employers were starting their own stands, and the barbarians (Los Burritos, Campos, the Green Burrito) were at the gates. Today the kingdom is a shadow of its former self: There are only two Burrito King stands left, down from 20.

Still, a few loyal subjects remain. In Counter Intelligence, Jonathan Gold calls the original B.K. at Sunset and Alvarado “Los Angeles’s classic burrito stand” and acknowledges that it once ranked with Tommy’s and Pink’s as a late-night destination. Though its status declined in the ’80s, he says, Burrito King is still a stand for the people.