Heraklion's central market, the Agora, opened in 1925 and still operates six mornings a week, selling produce harvested within a thirty-kilometer radius of the city walls. The stalls run parallel to 1866 Street, named for the year Cretan rebels detonated gunpowder inside Arkadi Monastery rather than surrender to Ottoman forces—a gesture that echoes in the island's food culture, where every ingredient carries territorial weight. Olives from Peza, honey from Anogia, barley rusks baked in wood-fired ovens: these are not artisan revivals but unbroken supply chains, some documented in Venetian customs logs from the fifteenth century. A Heraklion walking food tour navigates the compact grid between Morosini Fountain and the old harbor, a twenty-minute walk that compresses five hundred years of occupation—Byzantine, Venetian, Ottoman, modern Greek—into a dozen storefronts. Cretan cuisine absorbed each wave without softening: Venetian influence shows in the use of cinnamon and clove, Ottoman rule left yogurt and phyllo, but the base layer—wild greens, legumes, goat—predates written record. Dakos, the island's signature meze, is barley rusk softened with tomato and topped with mizithra cheese; it was shepherds' rations in the Minoan era and remains the same today, served in every taverna within a five-block radius of Lions Square. The Old Town's food vendors operate from stone buildings erected under Venetian rule, when Heraklion—then called Candia—was the Republic's Mediterranean grain depot. Archways on Dedalou Street still bear guild insignia from the 1600s, marking bakeries, cheese shops, and wine merchants that supplied galleys bound for Venice. Modern Heraklion food tours follow these routes because the infrastructure never changed: the same cellars that stored Malvasia wine in 1650 now age raki, the same ovens that baked ship biscuit now turn out koulouri and bougatsa. Culinary walks in Heraklion operate daily between 9:00 and 21:00, bracketing the market's morning rush and the evening volta, when locals circle the Morosini Fountain before dinner. Tours stop at working vendors—butchers, greengrocers, bakers—where transactions happen in Greek and prices are posted in euros per kilo, not per tourist. This is functional commerce, not performance: you taste what the city eats, purchased from the same counters where Heraklion residents buy their weekly supplies.