by Samantha Husted 

Uptown doesn’t have many secrets. The small urban landscape is surprisingly straightforward. Walk the streets and you’ll find a few towering skyscrapers occupied by big banking companies, corporate offices, hotels and a handful of beloved sit-down restaurants, both new and old, nestled in between. 

But Uptown is not without its under-the-radar spots. Tucked away in the depths of the Two Wells Fargo Center lies a hidden gem with a cult-like following: Johnny Burrito. 

Since June 1, 1998, Johnny Burrito — owned and operated by Johnny Bitter — has fed the people of Charlotte hearty California-style burritos, homemade tamales, nacho salads, MoonPies, and ice-cold slushies. 

“We’re one of the oldest at this point,” Bitter says of Johnny Burrito’s near 27-year tenure.

Most people hear of the kitschy burrito joint through word of mouth — kind of like speakeasy, but for burritos. If you know, you know.

Finding Johnny Burrito can be somewhat difficult the first time, but that’s part of the fun. The walls of the 1,000-square-foot restaurant are filled with ephemera: old news clippings, “ugly money,” or colorful, art-laden dollar bills Bitter has collected over the years, Cheerwine signs, and homages to The Big Lebowski, Bitter’s favorite film.

“It just organically started happening where we would put stuff up on the wall…then customers have added stuff, then there’d be another (news) article, and it just kind of grew from there,” Bitter says.  

Bitter is a bit of a showman, and it’s no wonder — he learned a good bit of his trade as a teenager out in Las Vegas. He’s charismatic with a distinct Southern charm. But most importantly, he’s kind. And he never forgets a face. 

“That’s what you want: connection, knowing everybody’s order, and knowing names,” Bitter says. 

You can find him at Johnny Burrito most days of the week, manning the register and greeting guests with his classic catchphrases: “rookie today, regular tomorrow,” or “I’m Johnny, you’re the boss for the next 10 feet,” are common.

So how did a small burrito restaurant endure for 26 years in a city like Charlotte, where new restaurants are about as common as the change of seasons? 

Like the foil that holds burritos together, Bitter’s road to Johnny Burrito was circuitous. At 16 years old, he dropped out of high school and found himself out west, far away from his home in North Carolina. To make money, he picked up jobs working in restaurants in Phoenix and Las Vegas. 

“ In Phoenix, I started out as a dishwasher, then a busboy, then a prep cook,” he explained. “Then I came up and became a sous chef.”

After a few years out west, Bitter left the restaurant industry to pursue a higher education. He got his GED and then enrolled at Central Piedmont Community College. After two years, he transferred to the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, where he graduated with a degree in accounting. 

Eventually, he found a job as a financial analyst and later as a project manager at First Union — now Wells Fargo — in the same building where Johnny Burrito stands today. 

But Bitter wasn’t cut out for the doldrums of corporate life.

“ I have a little more personality than that,” he says.

If you’ve met Johnny, you’ll understand. He’s flamboyant and charismatic — the opposite of uptight. He wears shirts with red chile peppers on them and gives away Jolly Ranchers on Fridays. 

When the opportunity to open Johnny Burrito arose, he took it. After 10 years of corporate life, he was done. Plus, California-style burritos were gaining popularity, and he was intrigued by the concept of craft burritos. 

“ People back then didn’t know what you were talking about,” Bitter explained. “ They thought, ‘Oh, burritos? Taco Bell.’ I said, ‘No, we’re craft.’”  

Using his business and accounting prowess, alongside his cooking and restaurant background, Bitter was able to start Johnny Burrito from the ground up. He even traveled to California for research and development.

Upon opening, the first few weeks of business were purely word of mouth, with most of the customers being employees of First Union. While I was interviewing Bitter, one of his old coworkers came for a burrito — a loyal patron for nearly 27 years.

Today, not much has changed in the small burrito joint. The organized chaos that is Johnny Burrito is hard to describe. There’s almost always a line, but Bitter’s team is efficient. 

“We’re trying to do two people per minute,” he explained. 

First-time customers or “rookies” are always given a bottle opener —  kind of like a friendship bracelet for Charlotteans. 

As for the flavor, everything is made fresh daily. When in doubt, go for the Firecracker chicken; as Bitter will tell you, it’s the most popular. “We chop all of our own tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and jalapeños and sell it fresh every day,” Bitter says. “We trim our own meats, we have our own marinades, and we cook all of that every morning.”

One thing that has allowed Johnny Burrito to survive is its enduring commitment to its employees. When his first employee, Martha Harris, retired after 24 years, Bitter organized a community campaign raising $10,000 to help pay off her house. 

He describes her as the best burrito roller in town, with a cult following of her own. “It was a special talent that she had to get everything in there and really get it sealed up and rolled just right,” he said. 

After 26 years as an independent business and, for many, an unofficial Uptown landmark, Johnny Burrito has remained a beloved fixture built on a foundation of authenticity. 

“ I think that’s very important that you like what you do, you like what you serve, and then you put a good team around that can help you be successful,” Bitter said. 

The future of Johnny Burrito is uncertain as the Two Wells Fargo building is currently up for sale. Bitter, now 62, says everything is still up in the air. Regardless, Johnny Burrito stays busy through its loyal customer base and Uptown foot traffic. 

“It (the building) may get sold, and we get a phone call one day and they say, ‘you got three months while we line up the construction to tear the building down’ — and that just may be it,” he says. “C’est la vie.”