Growing up, we had a place called Dick and Ellie’s that was one of the largest commercial attractions for the sprouting town of Mashpee. This was before the Commons grew from just a Drug Store, True Value and Bobby Byrne’s Pub. Dick and Ellie’s had a great mini golf set up that sat next to its larger pasture that hosted a flea market.  The flea market is what I was thinking about the other day after I opened an app on my phone and the brought home something called a “Magic Box”.

As a kid wandering the flea market, I don’t remember stumbling across anything particularly worthy of my limited pocket money. There were neon sunglasses, antiques, jelly shoes and stuff that didn’t get picked up on my radar as interesting. I do, however recall during the Pogo Ball craze (when my aunt eventually put my name on a waiting list for one in Hyannis), a flea market vendor had an array of sad knock-offs that didn’t look like they’d last ten minutes in a child’s possession. I remember the vendor trying to convince me that this was the real deal, all the while me giving him a juvenile side eye indicating that I wouldn’t be convinced.

But there was another flea market stand that had a non-descript basket on the side of its main table of wares. It was filled with a pile lumpy brown paper bags that were taped shut. On the outside of the basket a sign read, “Grab Bag 50¢”. Even though I didn’t see anything of interest at the actual stand, my unjaded brain found this basket venture into mystery incredibly compelling. There could be anything in there! With little to no hesitation, I selected one of the bags and presented it for purchase to the guy behind the table. I walked away feeling like I had just participated in something a bit daring. I waited until I was out of sight before unsealing the bag.

Sometimes my memory is incredibly sharp, other times not so much. What happened after I opened the flap is something of a cloudy question mark. While I don’t remember what exactly slid out of the bag, I do recall my great disappointment with what I got inside. I paid for this?! In all likelihood, it was probably something I could have gotten in the capsule vending machines at the entrance of Dunnington’s (this too, was another roulette experience). Super bouncy balls, a tiny plastic spinning top, or maybe a fortune telling cellophane fish was what I got. I simply don’t remember. But what I do remember is committing to that being the last time I every succumbed to the pull of a grab bag.

If Pogo Balls hit the toy market in 1987, then that means this Dick and Ellie’s Flea Market transaction happened 35 years ago. I’ve grown up a bit and I’ve changed. But last week, I found myself revisiting this experience when I delved into Italy’s Magic Box experience.

I am sure that the app exists elsewhere in the world, but here in Rome you can reserve portions of food that are just about to be thrown away at closing because nobody bought it. You select the restaurant, and for only a few euros you acquire one of the limited “Magic Boxes” available for pickup 30 minutes before close.  It’s a great idea in terms of avoiding food waste, and even better if you are on a budget and know of a really great spot.

So far I have tried Magic Boxes from two different places—one is a pizzeria and the other is a Sicilian café that has great (if not overpriced) brioche and almond granitas in the summertime.   Opening up the app, I felt a familiar delight while scrolling through the various options from restaurants in the area. Upping the ante, restaurants only offer a handful of opportunities to buy and that window closes quickly each day. It’s like a game of dinner roulette with the added bonus that you don’t need to figure out dinner because it’s coming in the form of a 3.99-euro bag or box.

The thing with the Magic Box—maybe similar to my childhood grab bag—is that you have to be on board with whatever you get. For the pizza I got, the slices that came inside consisted of one really good mixed pepper slice, two slices with big layers of prosciutto, and then a few slices of red pizza heavily seasoned by parsley. Parsley? Who buys that? Not many people, apparently…and so it goes into a Magic Box.

The other night at the Sicilian place, I watched a woman put together the Magic Box which was ultimately two bags of not healthy food. In one grease-stained bag were leftover pastries from the morning (which admittedly were quite stale) as well as a separate sack full of extra greasy eats including arancini al ragù and a small round pizza. Not exactly first choice— perhaps a takeaway cannoli or granita was a fantasy out of reach—but the experiment was had. I didn’t exactly have buyer’s remorse, but I didn’t exactly eat much of it either. What’s better is that I have the means and specific desire to not make the Magic Box a regular thing. But still, it wasn’t a waste of my time. I recognized the enduring the thrill is in the unknown.

Dick and Ellie’s moved from its Mashpee location in 2003 to South Dennis on the Mid Cape. I read that it finally shut down in 2015 after the internet and lack of interest and vendors made it unprofitable.  It’s a pity, but at the same time it is completely understandable. 

I’m not one to live super dangerously, and throwing a couple of bucks away on some mystery food or marginal entertainment really isn’t that much of a risk. But as human beings, we are naturally curious.  Furthermore, I have found that it can be tricky to strike just the right balance between “too much surprise” and “life is monotonous I can’t believe I have to do this for another 43 years”.  I’ll probably move on to something else after the Magic Box, maybe in another few decades. But even so, I’m finding that the dip into a familiar yet nostalgic feeling was enjoyable. Somehow, that makes it feel like I actually got a pretty good return on my 50-cent initial investment.