Carla Leon and her brand, Kaleydo, is in her second year as a shoe designer. For now she’s got a shop in San Borja, here in Lima, Peru. She makes fashionable handmade shoes made-to-measure for $112.
Oddly, I got added to a fashionista group… and when Kaleydo was recommended to me, I immediately nixed the idea saying that I’d given up on bespoke shoes because after having them made in Bangladesh, Vietnam, and Colombia, I no longer believed that anyone could make me a shoe that I could use. Apparently, Carla takes this as a challenge and will not stop until the customer is satisfied. So, I gave her a try.
Carla’s showroom/shop is on a third floor walkup beside a pharmacy at Avenida San Luis 2033, apartment 204, San Borja. There is no indication that it’s a shop so you have to know where you are going. Carla doesn’t really speak English so it’s best to have some Spanish skills or take a friend with some Spanish skills when you go. Buy by appointment only.
While Carla’s designer shoes are all made with heels, she does also do really plain flat boring shoes! That’s what I’m getting. She can do any combination of her heels, toes, width, height, color, etc. completely completely completely custom made. And lots of sneakers. She has many brides who get pink heels made and matching sneakers for after the ceremony. Carla also makes boots and those cost 550 soles or $163. The shoes take about two weeks to be made but it depends on how customized they are. One can also buy the shoes off the shelf if they fit. Yes, she takes credit cards.
Carla likes to meet her clients the first time they come for custom made shoes. When I told Carla that when she was famous and had shops all over the world, she wouldn’t be able to measure every foot… she insisted, sweetly, that she would never want to give up tailoring the shoes to the person. She is an artist who loves her craft. With her logo of a peacock shaped like a shoe and her Tiffany colored bags, I predict that she will soon be a “I knew her when…”
Normally, I would have done lots of googling before moving to a new country but with Peru, I’m playing catchup. Here are some expat sites from a quick trawl on Google:
Dhaasu=buenazo=awesome! Really, that is the definition of the name (“DAW-ah-sooo” is my best guess). 
Apparently, in Arequipa, there is an Indian guy named Roy who has a restaurant named “India Indian” — just to make clear that the food is Indian. In Peru, the term for Indian food is “comida hindu.” In Lima, there are four restaurants claiming to be this kind of food: Dhaasu opened in just recently (
Dhaasu is a hole-in-the-wall or huarique (Peruvian term for a hole-in-the-wall) with eight stools. No tables, no tablecloths, no reservations. Dhaasu translates to “effing awesome” or “buenazo” in Peruvian Spanish. It describes how delicious the food is at this newly opened eatery run by Rish and Camilla. They both speak English and Spanish, the chef has over ten years of experience from cooking in Delhi, and yes, there are vegetarian versions of everything. Currently, the menu is a few types of wrap sandwiches and curries. Those words are pitiful descriptions of the yummy spicy (but not spicy) meat in masala sauce (or curry by another name), the warm and fresh baked flatbread (naan) sandwiches wrapped around tender, marinated, caramelized juicy meat… 
Rish comes from a family of restaurant owners and Dhaasu is just the beginning of his empire. Dhaasu uses biodegradable containers and utensils for those who feel better knowing this. I plan to take my own lunchboxes next time and load up.
Rish plans to expand, take his tandoor on the road, cater, and can he hurry up already? Speaking of India food, I asked about dosa which is from south India. Rish said that he had a friend who was thinking about this too… Here’s to the rise of the Indian Indian food in Lima!
Visiting the fish market of Lima made me miss Bourdain. But, I went in his spirit. The 
Even though I could see from the online photos that it didn’t look like a picturesque place, I still wanted to visit. The prices are good (2 bucks for a pound of fish). Apparently, one could get some fresh ceviche in the food court above the fish terminal. That sounded fresh. Right? In order not to give my Peruvian friends extreme heart palpitations, I hired a local from Villa Maria del Triunfo to pick me up, drive me, guide me, and stay with me at all times. People said to wear rubber boots. If you have some, you could. But, then, also, wear a rain coat.
We arrived at 10 a.m. long after most of the fish was sold. The hall is more of a hangar and it’s a wet market with slush and ice on the floor. Trucks are parked inside and most of the fish is in blue plastic flats, some packed with ice. It’s not pretty and it smells of fish. At 10 a.m., there was still the bustle and hustle of any market, but the fish looked only slightly more exhausted than the fishmongers. Therefore, I did enjoy when one of the fishwives sashayed to me and asked me straight up, “what are you looking for?” (An aside: I kind of like it when sales folk also add a “love” or “my queen” at the end of the pitch). Another salesman jumped in and the sassy fishwife didn’t like it! She pushed him aside and they almost got into fisticuffs.
As we walked around, the fish vendors went about their business and I got touched by a few dead fish along the way. Hence why you might want to wear a raincoat along with your rubber boots. I wore neither so I smelled like fish. Old fish.
As the food court was right on top of the fish market, we naively hoped for fresh fish…. We ordered leche de tigre (the lime sauce resulting from making ceviche), chupe (soup), ceviche, and deep fried fish. All of them were fishy and I did not find them edible.
Overall, I enjoyed the outing, but I’ll write about where to get fresh fish another time. For now, go fish.