Low-Fat & Frozen -- Something New For 10-Percent-Fat Dieters

I MIGHT NOT BET THE microwave on it, but when a particular food makes its way into a TV dinner, I suspect it has some staying power. Shelf life, if you will.

Being a part of a TV dinner may even extend the commercial longevity of some items. Would we otherwise still be eating chicken pot pies and Salisbury steaks?

So I took note when, through the mail, I received an announcement introducing Life Choice Meals. Frozen dinners. Six varieties. All under 10-percent of calories from fat.

Well, I thought, it looks like this 10-percent-fat diet will probably be around awhile.

The Life Choice meals are made by ConAgra Frozen Foods of Omaha, Neb., the same folks who fill supermarket freezers with Healthy Choice brand foods. They were developed with the guidance of Dr. Dean Ornish, following the guidelines popularized with his book, "Eat More, Weigh Less" (now out in paperback). The Life Choice dishes range from 4 to 7 percent in calories from fat, have virtually no cholesterol, are high in fiber and average just 235 calories each.

Year-long test-marketing in Denver and San Francisco supermarkets led ConAgra to conclude that the market for such ultra-low-fat frozen dinners was limited. (They call it "targeted.") So the dishes were pulled from the frozen-food aisles and became a mail-order item last January. Customers must order eight (for $25.80, plus $12.95 shipping), 12 ($42.45) or 16 ($57.30) meals at a time; they're packed with dry ice and overnight-expressed (to order, call 1-800-328-3738).

My eight arrived and raised this unanticipated question: Where to put them when the dry ice dried up? After a fleeting image of eating all eight at once, I managed to cram them into my freezer, between the Dreyer's nonfat vanilla frozen yogurt and the Haagen Dazs nonfat mango sorbet.

Two of the pasta varieties were in my Top 3. I suspect it was the low-fat ricotta in the Stuffed Manicotti and the low-fat mozzarella in the Vegetable Lasagne that won me over, which probably means I haven't quite reached that stage where I don't crave high-fat foods.

The mixed vegetables (in all meals except for my other favorite, the spicy Black Bean Burrito, which comes with Mexican-style rice) were tolerable, although they won't threaten the Jolly Green Giant, not to mention the Pike Place Market. It wasn't easy to warm the dense entrees without further overcooking the typical TV-dinner vegetables. (Why don't frozen-dinner makers ship the meals with clearly undercooked vegetables, so they don't wind up with the life baked out of them?)

The Vegetable Enchiladas were rather bland but, like the others, deceptively filling; I tried to eat two dinners in one sitting and came away uncomfortably stuffed. The Linguini with Red Sauce is less tempting than the other pastas, probably because of the lack of cheeses. The Garden Potato Casserole has a cheesy sauce (do you detect a theme here?) that I wound up shoveling the mixed vegetables into. For all but the Black Bean Burrito, I'd keep a bottle of Tabasco sauce handy to liven them up a bit.

The directions recommend complementing the meals with a green leafy salad with nonfat dressing and a piece of fruit for dessert. But how many people who resort to frozen dinners have time to make side dishes?

At ConAgra they promote Healthy Choice as the 2-percent milk of frozen dinners, and Life Choice as the skim milk. Sales are going very well, according to public-relations manager Pat Quarles, "given the percentage of the population that needs to modify their diet for health purposes." She puts that number at less than 10 percent of the public at large. (Ornish and other proponents of an ultra-low-fat diet might guess it's more like 80 or 90 percent, but that's another tangent.)

The main idea, I think, is that the Life Choice dinners give a few more options to people trying to stick to the 10-percent-fat diet. Not gourmet options, mind you, but occasionally acceptable, fairly economical ones in busy lives. I ate them more as lunches and snacks than full dinners.

It would be nice to be able to pick up just one or two at the supermarket, however, instead of having to find room for eight or more in the freezer.

Because, frankly, when push comes to shove, my nod goes to the mango sorbet.

Molly Martin is assistant editor of Pacific.