Recently, the New York Times Travel section posed the question, “Is Le Marche the Next Tuscany?” Le Marche’s fans are growing with each passing season, and every year an increasing number of travelers are ready to chart their course for this relatively unknown region of Italy. When I was visiting Rome last year, I had lunch with an American ex-pat, who spoke fondly of his weekend trips to Le Marche; he lamented its expanding popularity for fear of exactly what the Times stated. Le Marche remains, for the most part, unspoiled, unhurried, and uninvaded, for now.

If you have never considered “The Marches,” yourself, get out your trusty atlas. Le Marche sits on the eastern coast of central Italy, bordered by Umbria to the west, Emilia-Romagna to the north, and Abruzzo in the south. Her cuisine reflects those varied borders; inland, the food resembles the heartier mountain cuisine of neighboring Umbria, while the coastline revels in its abundance of seafood. The specialties of this under-sung region are also poised to take their long overdue place in the spotlight, and since we are talking about Le Marche ingredients and wine this month, I am going to briefly turn my attention away from Dolci and onto my second favorite topic, cheese.

I predict that the fine cheeses of Le Marche will appear as serious contenders as soon as they can overcome the hurdles of wider exportation and a need for more successful marketing. As more travelers enjoy them on holiday, the demand to have them exported grows exponentially. This will hopefully spell success for the cheesemakers of Le Marche who have put forth a concerted effort to revive their long-dormant traditions, some of which were in danger of extinction until the recent sparks of attention to the region.

Take, for instance, Cacio La Forma di Limone, a unique cheese from the Metauro river valley made with sheep’s milk, and oddly enough, lemons. These little cheeses are shaped like lemons, and are rubbed with a mixture of salt and fresh lemon zest. After the salt is washed off, the cheese is brushed with a mixture of flour and water to ensure that the lemon zest adheres to the rind during the brief aging process. This is an example of a cheese rarely exported out of Le Marche, and a few decades ago, was in danger of absolute extinction.

Like her neighbors Umbria and Tuscany, Le Marche produces some notably fine Pecorinos, or sheep’s milk cheeses. Pecorino dei Monti Sibillini is an exceptional example, made in the valleys surrounding Mount Sibillini, as well as in Ascoli Piceno. The process for this Pecorino differs from the classic Tuscan method; the curds are reheated after being formed and finely cut, then they are hand-pressed into round molds. The molded cheeses are then covered in dry salt for two days, after which they are placed in a moderately humid, cool room for 20 days. During this time, they are washed, every other day, with warm water and whey. Next comes an aging period of up to two years, during which time they are brushed with their own fat, which oozes out of the rind, as well as some fine local olive oil.

Ambra di Talamello can be made from cow, sheep, or goat milk, and is an example of “Formaggi di Fossa,” or cheeses that are aged underground. “Ambra” refers to the amber tones the cheese takes on during the aging process, which happens annually from mid-July to November. The cheeses, already two months old, are wrapped in special cotton sacks and buried in straw-lined tufa pits and sealed with chalk paste. They emerge in autumn with a distinctive, earthy tang.

At Babbo, I am happy to serve Casciotta D’Urbino, the only cheese of Le Marche endowed with a D.O.P. designation (since 1996). The story surrounding its name is a bit murky. One version contends that it is a spelling error caused by a bureaucratic mishap. Another implies that it is a deliberate attempt by Tuscan cheesemakers to mark Casciotta’s “inferior” distinction as a mixed-milk cheese, as opposed to their own Pecorino Toscano, which is 100% sheep’s milk. Perhaps the Tuscans were miffed that one of their own, Michelangelo Buonarroti, was fond of Casciotta D’Urbino. Michelangelo actually purchased land in Le Marche, transplanting one of his servants there to provide him with a continuous supply of his favorite cheese.

The combined milks (70 to 80 percent sheep, 20 to 30 percent cow) is the first distinction of Casciotta D’Urbino; the method for making the cheese goes back as far as the thirteenth. Rennet is added to the milk to form soft curds, which are finely cut and reheated as with Pecorino dei Monte Sibillisi. The curds are molded into rings by hand; hand pressing continues to extract the whey. The cheeses are salted either by dry-rubbing or immersion in a brine bath, after which they are stored in a very humid, cool room to age for about a month. The cheese has a somewhat soft texture, with a buttery flavor and pleasingly tangy finish. In Le Marche, the favorite way to enjoy it is with a drizzle of their local acacia honey and glass of Verdicchio.