A joyous feast in the comeback city of New Orleans

I've awakened to my first morning in New Orleans, just a few hours after getting my mind — and hearing — blown by the Soul Rebels Brass Band at uptown's Le Bon Temps Roule.

It's time to treat myself to the cultural banquet that is The Big Easy, a city that celebrates cuisine and considers music essential to everyday life.

Hurricane Katrina's specter haunts the abandoned houses and boarded-up businesses, but if you love food and music, there's no going wrong in this Southern city, sticky air and all.

"We're a tale of two cities," says Mary Beth Romig, communications director for New Orleans' Convention & Visitors Bureau.

"We still have a lot of recovery to go in some neighborhoods. But parts of the city are very much alive and thriving, like the French Quarter and uptown. The attractions are back, and we have more restaurants than ever in the city's history."

First up, let's head to the Southern Food & Beverage Museum (aka SOFAB), at the Riverwalk Marketplace near the slow-rolling Mississippi River. Step inside and you'll find exhibits that feed your mind — and make you hungry.

The museum focuses on foods that define the South, New Orleans in particular: crawfish, corn, po' boy sandwiches and much more that'll make you feel like munching.

"We want to tell the story not only of Southern food, but its cultural aspects," says Liz Williams, SOFAB's president. "Food represents politics, culture, economics — it's everything."

The best po'boy

The po' boy exhibit keeps drawing our attention, and now we're craving one of the sub-style sandwiches.

No one's sure how the name originated, but one popular theory says "po' boy" dates to free sandwiches distributed to New Orleans streetcar workers during a 1929 strike. "Here comes another po' boy" was apparently a popular saying when a striker came looking for a handout sandwich.

Who serves New Orleans' best po' boy?

"You've got to go to Parkway Bakery," says Williams. "They've got the best roast beef po' boy in the city."

And we're off ... to a semi-industrial section of the Mid City neighborhood. The lunch rush packs Parkway Bakery & Tavern, 538 Hagen Ave., where a fuzzy-sounding voice announces ready orders over a loudspeaker: a home-cooked hot roast beef with gravy po' boy, an order of sweet potato fries with a bottle of Barq's root beer.

Bread defines the po' boy, with a crunchy crust balanced by an especially soft center. This Louisiana French bread is sturdy enough to hold a variety of meats and fried seafoods, but it's no match for the roast beef po' boy at Parkway. The mound of savory, gravy-soaked meat spills over the sides and drenches the bread.

Live music seems to be everywhere in New Orleans, whether you're scarfing down scrambled eggs with Crystal hot sauce or seeing a street band set up around midnight on Frenchmen Street.

No trip to New Orleans would be proper without soaking up a "second line" parade (named for the partyers who follow the "main line" of those from the parade's sponsoring group). The second line season generally runs on Sundays from August to February's Mardi Gras, with each parade sponsored by a specific organization.

Second-line parades have their roots in African-American benevolent societies and clubs of the mid-1800s that offered insurance and financial aid to their members. The parades are like a club's walking advertisement — with a whole lot of funky music.

We're on a corner of St. Charles Avenue, where a crowd is getting ready to party through the streets. Pit bosses tend to their smokers, selling pork ribs and $2 Budweiser cans to revelers. The Goodfellas Social Aid and Pleasure Club's brass band warms up nearby.

Then the band starts blowing, and quickly it's a procession of orange, white and blue — the club's colors — followed by a dancing crowd. We walk in rhythm to the sousaphone's throbbing bass notes and screaming trumpets, the humid afternoon air slicking our backs with sweat. Life should always feel this joyous.