Leandrea drifts onto the tongue like a midsummer breeze off the Ligurian Sea—lee-AN-dree-uh, a silken ribbon woven from ancient Greek threads and bright Italian silk. Born of Leander, the mythic lover who braved moonlit currents for Hero, and brushed with the soft consonants of Andrea, she carries the meaning “brave as a lion, tender as dawn,” a duet of strength and grace that Italians might call forza e dolcezza. One can almost picture her wandering through a sun-splashed veranda in Siena, laughter catching in the shade of lemon trees, her name echoing against warm terracotta walls like a friendly vespa horn—bold yet undeniably charming. Though she has never crowded the American popularity charts, Leandrea has danced there in cameo appearances since the late 1950s, a quiet constellation whose rare sparkle attracts parents seeking something familiar yet freshly perfumed. She bears the romance of mythology, the cadence of a classic aria, and just enough novelty to earn a second, curious glance—proof that a name needn’t shout to be unforgettable; sometimes it need only sing.