Home from Holland, my parents brought me a wheel of Gouda. Or How-da, as they say. Howdy, gouda! Apparently the company that makes this particular brand of gouda maintains at least a dozen cheese stores around the country. Imagine. The only region of the U.S. that has that kind of devotion to, or need for, cheese is the midwest, where giant supermarkets offer refrigerated piles of blocks of the stuff, divided into yellow, white, and mottled (colby). You take your life into your hands asking a supermarket worker for blue, feta or, worst of all, parmesan. Well, you can get a green can of it in aisle 4.