17 MAY 8-14, 2025 westword.com WESTWORD | CONTENTS | LETTERS | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | CAFE | MUSIC | Ma Kaing’s Legacy HER KILLER WAS SENTENCED TO LIFE IN PRISON LAST WEEK. HER SPIRIT LIVES ON AT TAW WIN THAI AND BURMESE RESTAURANT. BY GIL ASAKAWA Taw Win Thai and Burmese Restaurant, one of only two eateries in Denver that serves Burmese cuisine, had only been open less than a year when it suffered a crushing blow in July 2022: Owner Ma Kaing, a 47-year-old refugee and community advocate, was killed by a stray bullet as she was unloading food from her car in front of her apartment near East Colfax Avenue. Shots sprayed out from the ironically named Freedom Park when four young men saw a car drive by that they thought contained rival gang members. The four were arrested, and two pleaded guilty. One, 23-year-old Lu Reh, went to trial; he was found guilty of fi rst- degree murder in February, and on May 2 was sentenced in Denver District Court to life in prison without parole. The trial for the fourth accused man will start in July. At the sentencing, a Denver prosecutor read a letter from Kaing’s son, Kyaw Oo. “I remember the time, the night, every second,” Oo wrote. “I held her as she took her last breath. I promised her I would take care of her family. As her eldest, I remember that promise with every breath.” Kaing and her family fl ed Myanmar (the modern name for what was once called Burma) during the country’s ongoing po- litical unrest and violence and arrived in Colorado in 2007. She became active in community organizations, helped other immigrants, and opened Taw Win. “Ma Kaing, my mother, was the founda- tion of that dream,” Oo said. “She was the reason we survived. The reason we thrived.” Her American dream was cut short. But after briefl y shutting down the restaurant, her family has carried on her legacy. Today, Taw Win is still open, just three blocks from the park where those deadly shots were fi red. The staffers at Taw Win seemed unaware of the court proceedings a few miles away on the day of Lu Reh’s sentencing. They were busy seating and serving customers coming into the space at the end of a strip mall near East 11th Avenue and Yosemite Street in east Denver, part of a neighborhood often described the “Colfax Corridor.” The restaurant’s interior is a mashup of touristy images, artifacts from Myanmar and, though a few months after the fact, holiday lights and a festive Christmas tree. The service was friendly and the staff ea- gerly gave recommendations and explained the difference between Burmese and Thai cuisine. The menu, which proclaims “Royal” above the Tai Win name on the cover, fea- tures four pages of Thai dishes and two of Burmese. Early on, the Thai items were more popular, one server told me, since Thai food has been on the American scene for much longer than food from Myanmar. These days, more adventurous diners are ordering from the Burmese pages. But there’s a lot of overlap between the two culinary traditions, in name and concept, if not always in fl avor. Curry appears on both sides of the menu, but the Thai curries include versions people can order at many Thai restaurants in the area, like Panang and Massaman, with co- conut milk as the base of the gravy and an array of curry spices. Burmese curry doesn’t use those spices, and is made with a paste of mostly garlic, onions and ginger with chiles and paprika for color and heat, and cinnamon sticks or lemongrass for fl avor variations. I ordered Burmese Goat Curry, which was rich and chunky with meat on the bone. While wonderfully savory, it was not as spicy as I’d hoped. I’d requested medium-spicy, not the medium they’d serve most customers, but closer to the heat they’d serve family members in the back. Next time, I’ll go for the full family-spicy lvel. One Burmese dish shows up under “Sal- ads” on the Thai side: Tea Leaf Salad, with fried garlic, peanuts, cashews, chilis and peas sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds. It was crunchy, plenty spicy and a terrifi c choice. I also had Mohinga, a traditional Burmese seafood soup that some diners think is too fi shy. It was creamy like a stew and not too fi shy — but it didn’t have the chunks of tilapia I’d expected from the menu description. Still, it was chockful of slippery rice noodles and pieces of eggs that were somewhere between hard-boiled and Japanese onsen, and very satisfying. Every dish was garnished with a sprig of mint, which added a nice accent when torn and sprinkled on the food. The server said that when I return, I should order his two favorite dishes: Ono Kaw Swe, a coconut milk soup with fried rice noodles, and Kat Gyi Kat, stir-fried noodles with the protein of your choice. Taw Win’s chef and manager, Lin Hped, says that Ma Kaing’s passion for sharing her food with the community continues today; family members, including an uncle, still own the operation. “Her spirit came alive in every dish,” Oo said of his mother in his letter to the court. And Ma Kaing’s legacy lives on at Taw Win. Taw Win Thai and Burmese Restaurant at 1120 Yosemite Street is open from 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. Sunday-Tuesday and Thursday, and 11 a.m. to 8:15 p.m. Friday and Saturday. For more infor- mation, visit tawwinburmesefood.com CAFE FIND MORE FOOD & DRINK COVERAGE AT WESTWORD.COM/RESTAURANTS GIL ASAKAWA MICHELLE CHRISTIANSEN PHOTOGRAPHY Meet Gil Asakawa What a long, strange trip it’s been, as the Grateful Dead once sang. While Molly Martin is out on medical leave, I’ve returned to Westword, where my journalism career started. I was the fi rst music editor, and I used to hate the Dead. In fact, I once debated another Westword writer, the late Alan Du- mas, who was a committed Deadhead; we sat at a table at the old Wazee Supper Club (today the location of A5 Steakhouse) and argued for an hour about the band. Since then, my long, strange trip has taken me down many paths, but all related to writing, storytelling and media. After a decade, I left Westword to help launch the Boulder-based radio show eTown, then took a job as the en- tertainment editor for the Colorado Springs Ga- zette for four years. During that time, this thing called the Internet happened and I was one of the early adopters who loved the idea of writing something about the arts and music scene in El Paso County and having a scientist stationed in Antarctica email me about my articles. I knew the future of media would be online. I took a gig as the content manager of a new media operation, AOL’s Digital City Denver, a refl ection of the city’s many com- munities and topics represented by America Online members. A series of online positions followed, highlighted by a stint as the editor of DenverPost.com, the Denver Post’s web- site. I ran a half dozen other online sites for as many companies — like I said, I’ve been on a long, strange trip. Somewhere in there, I co-authored The Toy Book. During this time, I became what I call a “born-again Asian” — but really a “born- again Japanese American.” I was born in Tokyo and my family moved to the States when I was eight, so I was as American as anyone else, but I had strong cultural roots in my Japanese heritage. I wrote Being Japanese American, a memoir/history of the Japanese American community, and in 2022, Tabemasho! Let’s Eat! The Tasty History of Japanese Food in America. And that brings me to where I am today. I started posting #foodporn on my social media, gained a reputation as a foodie, and have tried to live up to that reputation. I eat all manner of Japanese food that’s slimy or stinky. I love eating anything from anywhere. I’ve had bugs at the Taste of Colorado, and my bucket list includes Balut, the Filipino dish of an unborn chick embryo in an egg. My rule: If someone somewhere in the world eats something, I’m willing to try it. I like junk food. I like fancy food. I love to cook. I’m obsessed with Japanese kitchen knives. I’m the King of the Grill. But mostly, I love food that refl ects the culture that cooks it. I look forward to maintaining this sec- tion in Molly’s absence, and to hand it over in good health when she returns. Then I’ll continue my own long, strange trip. In the meantime, send any suggestions to gil. [email protected]. Ma Kaing, owner of Taw Win, was killed in July 2022; her restaurant lives on.
