Alain Ducasse last night in the James Beard House Kitchen (Photo: Lizz Kuehl)

Last night marked a number of firsts: the first of multiple exclusive dinners presented as part of the 2009 New York City Wine & Food Festival (the 80 available tickets for this one cost $400 each); the first time the renowned French chef Alain Ducasse cooked at the James Beard House; and the first time he prepared a meal with the executive chefs of both of his New York restaurants—Joel Dennis of Adour Alain Ducasse and Pierre Schaedelin of Benoit. The Feed spent the evening in the kitchen to see how it it all went down. Big, bad slide show you do not want to miss, after the jump.

When we arrived at 4:30pm, Dennis, Schaedelin and their teams (one sous chef each, along with Adour’s pastry chef, Sandro Micheli, and his helper) were midway through setting up their work spaces and learning their way around the unfamiliar kitchen—turning on ovens,  heating soups and stocks, trying to figure out how the deep-fryer worked. Ducasse was scheduled to arrive an hour later, and in his absence the chefs worked with a relaxed concentration punctuated by the occasional comment or joke.

Dennis portioned his foie gras–and-quince terrine, Schaedelin cut a headcheese into bite-size cubes, and Micheli toasted par-baked homemade minibaguettes in the oven. According to Schaedelin, the creation of the five-course menu involved a series of back-and-forth conversations among the chefs and Ducasse to perfect and coordinate the dishes. Each New York chef was responsible for half of the savory food: They prepared six canapés (three each), Dennis served his terrine as well as a roasted squab meat course, Schaedelin was in charge of butternut squash soup and the fish course, and Micheli followed it all with an apple dessert, macarons and chocolates.

When Ducasse arrived at 5:30pm, the sound level in the kitchen—already relatively quiet—fell to such a hush that the exhaust fans and convection ovens were left alone to hum in the background. The chef shook hands with those present and then inspected the kitchen, quietly consulting with the chefs on their food and preparation. Then he turned and with a nod to the cooking area gave his approval in limited English, “That’s okay; good way.”

Ducasse had just flown in from Hong Kong, part of a world tour that he embarks on every two months to ensure standards are being upheld at his global network of 22 restaurants, in which he tastes new dishes and otherwise maintains an international business that requires hands-on care. We learned later that his employees try to predict his mood upon arrival, and the long flight from Hong Kong had them bracing for a less-than-sunny disposition.

As best we could surmise, though, the largely inscrutable Ducasse was pleased with what he saw and tasted, making sporadic comments, smiling from time to time and quietly observing his chefs as they methodically delivered a continuous stream of plates to the dining room. Interestingly, he was most vocal about fresh black pepper: He wanted lots of it on nearly everything, calling for its addition the way other chefs demand more salt. It rained down copiously into sauces, and over vegetables and proteins. Dennis explained later, “More and more he likes the pepper; it’s not just seasoning. A good fresh-cracked pepper is like a condiment, that one bold element in a dish.”

Ha! Monsieur Ducasse, we have discovered your trade secret.