So says Eileen Dunne, who is something of an expert in these things, having spent 16 years of her life in Rome, first as a young art student and then working at the UN where she met her husband Stefano Crescenzi. Those two surnames are instantly recognisable to anyone who savours their glass of vino rosso and plate of antipasti of an early evening, and the couple's home is as delightfully informal as their growing string of restaurants.

Their restored Pearse Square period house is just two doors up from the house where Eileen was born and where generations of her family have lived since the terrace was built around the l840s.

"It was particularly nice for my own kids growing up here as my mother and brother still live on the square, while a sister lives across the way and another brother comes back from the States every summer to his house here too. They have had the same experience as I had growing up here, because when I was small, we had the park to run around in as well."

The couple bought the house in l993, two years before they returned to live here, and like most 'returnees', Eileen has her own eyebrow-raising property price tale to tell.

"Guess how much we paid for it back then? About £49,000. And the neighbours were outraged at the time, because about two years previously, these houses were selling for £11,000. The neighbours felt we were being fleeced because we had just come back here from Italy.

And of course the house was in a deplorable state. We brought it back literally to a shell and had to dig out part of the basement. But buying an older house is a lifestyle choice, and we love it really."

The home (now well restored) which she shares with Stefano and the four children, aged 12, 14, 15 and 26, is very much for family and in pride of place in the kitchen is the long, scrubbed wood table which looks like it could comfortably fit another family of equal number.

A love of art is obvious throughout the house, where paintings, drawings and small pieces of sculpture collected over the years are lovingly displayed. A happy hunting ground for contemporary work is the Leinster Gallery, just opposite the restaurant at South Frederick Street, and "obviously too close to resist", smiles Eileen.

Her Italian connection is very much entwined with that love of art, and the opportunity to go and study at La Accademia di Belle'Arti in Rome at the tender age of 18.

Because while she says her very early years in Dublin were happy, this was the l970s, and for young teens, there wasn't a lot happening.

"When we became teenagers, it wasn't so nice here. There was huge unemployment and it was quite dreary.

But the advantages of living right in the city meant we could at least go to the art gallery, the museum, or maybe the cinema.

"When I did the Leaving Certificate I really wanted to go to art college, but that was a big no-no financially. I was an inner-city girl, after all, and you just didn't get that opportunity. My aunt was living in Rome at that time, working in the UN offices there, and she told us that third-level education in Italy was free. So off I went, and I have to say, I fell in love with the place the minute I stepped off the plane."

It wasn't just the romance of Italy and this historic city . . . the art academy is beside the Spanish Steps and next door to the house where Keats and Shelley once lived . . . but also because she met other students from around the world.

"I had friends from really diverse places and got really interested in their politics, shared in their experiences, went on demonstrations. I joined the Italian communist party and when I had only been in Rome three months, we were barricaded into the academy for three days by an opposing body of fascist students. It was all very exciting, not to mention educational."

While still a young student, Eileen met her first husband, a sculptor, with whom she had her eldest son, Ghinlon.

The marriage didn't last, but her love affair with Rome continued to grow. She never lived far from the centre at any time, spending over 10 years in the Trastevere district . . . famous for its restaurants . . . where her son grew up.

"It was truly wonderful there, just the bustle and noise of being at the centre of things, the smells of baking, the delivery vans early in the morning. I have to say I loved every minute that I lived there. Ghinlon was the little local boy, and the cafe owners really loved him and showed him how to make pasta and ice-cream. My experience of Italian food at that time reverted back to the old Coffee Inn in South Anne Street where, as teenagers, we thought we were really sophisticated ordering cappuccino and spaghetti bolognese."

Italian food, she discovered, is a very broad term for what is a diverse style varying distinctly region by region, and of which each region, in turn, is very proud.

Her knowledge increased when she met native Roman Stefano, when both of them were working at the UN.

They travelled extensively throughout the country, sampling the very best of each region. Those trips were to prove the springboard for a much longer trip . . . a move back to Ireland and a complete change of life and career.

"Stefano was an economist, on loan to the UN but becoming very bored with his work.

At this stage we were married and had three children under the age of four. Then one day he just said 'why don't we do something really different?'

Like what? 'Why don't we go to Dublin and open up a restaurant?' I said 'sure' without really thinking about it, because that's the way I am.

But when I look back at it now, realising that the two of us gave up two very secure, pensionable jobs, I do wonder.

But realistically, we were both ready for a big change. And I don't sit down and analyse things too much. I tend to say 'yes' and things have a habit of working out okay in the end. It's important not to get too bogged down in analysing every little thing. And if you are passionate about something, you have more of a chance of making a success out of whatever it is that you do."

They returned in l995, to the advice from friends who told them they hadn't a hope of opening a successful restaurant, as one in every three was closing down. But they opened La Vista in Sutton in a former newsagents, turning it into a little deli and importing their products directly from Italy.

A Bridgestone award for fine food followed, after just one year in business, putting them on the food map, and eventually leading to the opening in l999 of the very first Dunne & Crescenzi at South Frederick Street. The overall aim, says Eileen, is to create places of warmth and informality as well as good, simple food.

"I don't really like fussy places. With Dunne and Crescenzi, the goal was to take the snootiness out of drinking wine. I wanted a place where, for example, a woman would feel comfortable dropping in after shopping, and could feel relaxed about it. That's the sort of informality I loved while I was in Italy."

Her own kitchen is open plan with a comfortable family room where the telly sits on an old enamelled stove from northern Italy. Opening from here, through French doors, is a garden room, dominated again by a large dining table, with bookcases and leafy plants. This room forms part of the extension of the house which the couple undertook during renovation.

While this is a lovely house, filled with beautiful things, the impression is very much that it's the people who are most precious here. And while there aren't many rules either, family dinner at 7.30pm is pretty much sacrosanct.

"I'm not at all religious, yet I like very much the image of Jesus sharing the food with his friends, that sense of connection with everyone round the table. Stefano and I would feel very strongly about having the kids eating with us, and having that time of the day together.

"It's nice when they bring home their friends too, even the ones who initially say they don't like Italian food. I always guarantee they will be eating and enjoying it too by the end of the evening!"