Coca-Cola has a pretty good reason to keep their recipe secret; the international company has almost $50 billion dollars of assets all riding on their signature crisp soft drink.
But I don't believe you need to be a corporation to keep your recipes secret, and I completely understand the pride and sense of self that goes into crafting your own, perfect dish. If you took the time and effort to taste test, swap ingredients, fiddle with cooking times and ultimately perfect something, by all means, guard it like Fort Knox.
For me, it's hard enough to simply follow a recipe from a cookbook without burning something. Over the years, I've learned this is why there's such a tremendous pride that comes from cooking something delicious. I remember the first time I made scrambled eggs and hash browns as a kid, and even though they eggs were runny, it was a great meal because I was responsible for the process from start to finish.
I love to experiment in the kitchen, but my food research doesn't extend much farther than strange sandwich combinations. I feel at my current level of cooking comfort, I wouldn't know where to begin making something daring when there's so much pre-existing cuisine I have yet to try to make. One of my culinary goals is to cook through an Italian cookbook, and maybe the marathon ordeal will jar new combinations to try.
My family isn't big on secret recipes either, and the closest thing I can think of might be my Grandma's biscuits and gravy recipe. The homemade buttery biscuits are perfectly flaky on top with a warm, soft center, and the gravy is thick and creamy with a hint of some herb, I don't know which, that makes the whole breakfast pop. I'm sure she'd tell me if I asked, and maybe I should. Although hers was sausage gravy, I could experiment and adapt that same flavor into a vegetarian recipe. If it's any good, maybe I'll write it down and keep it a secret.
