Quick

The dirty little secret about Penne alla Vodka is not the vodka but the hefty amount of heavy cream. Vodka is colorless, odorless, and without much flavor—not really attributes of a superstar ingredient. It’s the combination of cream and tomato sauce that gives this dish its signature flavor. The traditional cream is swapped here for low-fat Greek yogurt.

I once ate true Fettuccine Alfredo at Ristorante D’Alfredo in Rome, where a giant picture of its namesake owner hangs on the wall. The big flavors of the dish were brought to bear by combining outsized amounts of butter and Parmigiano-Reggiano. It was that simple: butter and cheese. Not so simple, though, if you’re watching your waistline. This version eliminates the cream that many American versions call for but retains a little bit of the butter for flavor. The velvety-smooth texture is re-created with yogurt and thickened chicken broth. It may not be as authentic as the original, invented by Alfredo di Lelio, but it’s a very tasty version we can all live with (for a very long time).

There’s a reason why this creamy concoction of beef, mushrooms, and onions in a sour cream sauce is a classic. What’s not to like? Well, 31 grams of fat, for starters. The original has nothing on this slimmed-down version—except for about 20 grams of fat.

Steak au poivre (steak with peppercorns) is one of the all-time great French bistro dishes. Few things complement a great steak like peppercorns, brandy, and cream. Needless to say, the original is way out of our budget, calorically speaking. At one-fourth of the original calories and one-tenth of the fat, this version will make you wonder why it hasn’t been revised until now.

In Mexico, tacos are small, fresh, and simply prepared. I once had a taco al pastor there that was mind-bendingly good, and it had all of three ingredients! Somehow, when the taco got to the United States, it morphed into double-crust, Taco Bell Beef Supreme Chalupa with sour-cream-out-of-a-caulking-gun madness. Here I do my best to honor the Americanized taco everyone seems to love, while bringing some traditional flavors into the picture.

This was originally a rich chicken dish made with lots of cream and sherry, peas, and pimientos, and served on hot buttered toast points or in pastry shells. There are as many stories about its origin as there are versions of the recipe. It likely made its debut at the Brighton Beach Hotel in New York at the turn of the 19th century, created by the chef in honor of the owner, Mr. E. Clark King II. I went with a green-pepper version and added celery seeds to the sauce because that’s how I like my à la king. If you can’t live without the pimientos, feel free to add them—they will have virtually no impact on the fat and calorie content.

There is much debate over whether chili should have beans in it. Some folks think beans make chili cheap—in the same way, they say, that breadcrumbs do to meatloaf. Actually, in both cases, those interloping ingredients contribute substantially to the dish. Breadcrumbs make meatloaf tender, while beans add texture and additional meatiness to chili—and lots of fiber and antioxidants, too.

This is one of those Italian-American classics—a dish that looks and tastes as though it was born in the Old Country but that was really born in the United States. Capers are used liberally in Sicilian cooking, and a lemon-caper sauce lives up to its name, piccata, which some say means “piquant.” Other translations say piccata means to add fat—which might be where all of the butter in the original sauce comes in. This recipe calls for just a dab of butter for flavor in the tangy, tart sauce.

Using turkey bacon would have been the shortest route to making over this classic sandwich—but when bacon is the first ingredient in the name of a dish, you have to figure out a way to use the real thing. So I made over the mayonnaise instead.

Some say the Reuben—corned beef brisket, Russian dressing, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, bread—was invented by an Omaha grocer named Reuben Kulakofsky to provide sustenance to participants in a late-night poker game. This reformed version was invented to help you eat better. (Following that logic, don’t stay up late playing poker, either.)

This sandwich is so old-school—and I love it. Using water-packed tuna and a reasonable amount of low-fat mayonnaise takes this diner-food classic off the “Do Not Eat” list.

As basic as a grilled cheese sandwich is, there are ways to make it badly (I’ve had a few of those) and ways to make it beautifully. This is how it should be: The bread should be toasted and crispy (hence the broiling), the cheese should be warm and melted but not running out of the sides, and there should be a little something extra to truly take it over the top. Here, a little orange marmalade adds a touch of sweetness to the otherwise savory elements.

Classic salade Niçoise from the South of France is a relatively light dish to start. With only 477 calories per serving in the original, I was challenged on this one. There was wiggle room, though: My version trims a bit here and there by calling for canned tuna packed in water, egg whites only (instead of whole eggs), a lighter vinaigrette than the traditional anchovy-based dressing, and more greens.

Cobb Salad gets its name from Robert Cobb, owner of the Brown Derby restaurant in Los Angeles and first cousin of baseball great Ty Cobb. The story goes that he was browsing through the refrigerator late one night, looking for a snack, and could only find bits and pieces of leftovers—which he chopped up and turned into a salad. The rest is history. Here’s a version of Cobb Salad that was put together with a little more thought—and a lot fewer calories.

The Italian name for this salad is insalata caprese, and it’s a shining example of the brilliance of Italian cuisine: a few fresh, simple ingredients at the peak of their season combined to produce exceptionally complex flavors. It hails from Capri, a small island off the coast of Naples in the region of Campagna, where my family comes from. Buy only the best mozzarella, tomatoes, basil, and olive oil you can find to make this salad. It may be naturally fresh and healthful, but I have kept fat and calories to a minimum by keeping the olive oil to a minimum—only 1 tablespoon for 4 servings.

I remember the first time I had “Chinese” chicken salad. It was at a trendy West Hollywood spot on Sunset Boulevard, and it could have been/should have been a lot better than it was. Fried noodles only do not a Chinese chicken salad make. In this recipe, textured vegetable protein, or TVP, replaces the noodles for crunch and bite. TVP is made from defatted soy flour, a by-product of making soybean oil. It’s high in protein and low in fat. TVP flakes are available in the health-food aisle of most major supermarkets.

A great green salad has always been a staple on my restaurant menus and on my table at home. The combination of Dijon mustard, good-quality vinegar, and olive oil gives tender green leaves their raison d’être. There is no olive oil in this dressing and it still tastes great. I kept the Dijon mustard in the mix because it’s very low in fat—and because few ingredients can pack a punch like Dijon mustard. Yogurt, lemon juice, and aromatics like tarragon and fennel round out the dressing. You’ll never again eat a green dressed with artificial-tasting, gloppy, low-fat dressing.

Who doesn’t love a big thick chunk of iceberg lettuce with bacon and blue cheese dressing alongside a juicy cowboy-cut ribeye? It’s one of my favorite steakhouse meals. Problem is, at 700-plus calories and more than 80 grams of fat—for the salad alone!—it’s a very bad bargain. Thankfully, the availability of reduced-fat blue cheese means you don’t have to choose between the steak and the salad.

The highest form of “cream of” soup starts out with cooked, pureed vegetables and pure, fresh cream. The second-best incarnation of that same soup winds up being pastier, with cornstarch as a thickener and the fresh cream replaced with cheaper fats, like vegetable oils. There’s one more way to make cream soup, though—a way in which you get the freshest, purest, least diluted taste of the vegetables. There’s no cream in this recipe—and no cornstarch, either. You still get a great creamy texture by using a lot of mushrooms and chicken broth. The key is to not let the mushroom liquor (the juice expressed by the mushrooms as they cook) evaporate, and to use a good blender to create a luxurious puree.

This takes a recipe that already has a reputation for promoting good health (think “Grandma’s penicillin” and “nature’s antibiotic”) and makes it even healthier. It will cure what ails you, but you don’t have to be sick to enjoy it.