Butterfly’s Pork Palace: Living High on the Hog

It’s fair to say the path to everlasting love comes in many shapes, sizes, colors, and in some cases fabrics. Just steps away from the white sands of Montecito’s Butterfly Beach, there is a quiet beauty and tranquil ambiance lining the road to one such love story that sits on full display – many years in the making.

In 1969, Nikki Grosso wanted to do something different that would bring some humor to her L.A. cop husband Ronald’s birthday – so with tongue in cheek, she wrapped the perfect gift that would bring the desired effect she was seeking – inside a box lay a small ceramic pig. “Pig” was a pejorative term used by the ‘60s counterculture to slander officers and detectives. Nikki thought it would be a good idea to turn that around by taking ironic ownership of the word. The spontaneous and silly gesture would mark the start of a 50-year obsession – one that would travel across the globe, and throughout lifetimes. The decades-old little birthday piggy is one of 6,000 curly-tailed swine residing in and out of the Grossos’ home at Butterfly Lane – it is the largest known collection of pigs in the U.S.

The Grossos’ pork palace boasts a collection that spans areas inside, outside, upstairs, downstairs, in bedrooms, in bathrooms, by the pool, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the hallway, and on the driveway and entrance of the home. The four-legged creature comforts come in every material imaginable – crystal, wooden, bronze, steel, ceramic, glass, ivory granite, jade, leather, wicker, canvas, and fabric. There are swine that tell time, swine to whisk your eggs, toast your bread, and grill your burger. There’s swine to keep your money safe, and even swine prepared to deliver your bills – even when you wish they wouldn’t. 

And there is no pig too tall or too short. The Grossos’ smallest oinker extends barely to the tip of your pinky while the tallest is a bartender on skates topping out at six feet tall. Small figurines line the interior walls in cases purchased to store the collections.

There’s one place in the Grossos’ home where the presence of pork could not be found – in the refrigerator. Nikki, a Kosher Jew from Nebraska, never indulged in the savory meat, although now in her 70s she says she just started trying bacon.

The Grossos’ purchased their Butterfly Lane residence in 1993. Throughout the years a plethora of pigs have been added to grace the home’s exterior – charming locals and tourists young and old – passerby filled with curiosity about the history of the swine story – some even taking their pork appreciation a step too far. “One of my large outdoor pigs was vandalized and decapitated,” recalls Nikki. “Some kids took the head and put it on the railroad tracks. Luckily I was able to retrieve it.” That now bodyless pig continues to greet passersby and even has a body double with a duplicated original standing a few feet away.

The Grossos’ collectibles have included gifts to each other, gifts from friends and family, and gifts from colleagues – still, the majority of them came from purchases the pig-loving pair made throughout their travels. Their multi-cultural swine collection comes from London, Venezuela, Mexico, Japan, Hong Kong, Australia, Fiji, Tahiti, Los Angeles, and locally in Santa Barbara, where Nikki’s favorite and priciest hog was born. Artist Joseph Bottoms created “Bess,” a $12,000 steel boar lovingly named after Nikki’s grandmother. Bess greets guests as they walk through the main hallway of the Grossos’ pig paradise.

Nikki’s teenage granddaughter was raised in the house of pigs and is used to being greeted by their chunky faces. Her 18^th birthday – three years from now – will mark a new chapter for the thousands of pigs that have called Butterfly Lane home. That is when the house where Nikki has lived high on the hog for more than 30 years will be sold – and with that, the collection of pigs will find a new home too. “It could be an auction, it could be an estate sale, the method of sale has not quite been determined,” she says.

The last and final pig added to the collection came in 2019, partly because Nikki was running out of room, but mostly because the inspiration that started the oinker frenzy could no longer participate in the shared amusement each new addition brought. Ronald, Nikki’s husband of more than 50 years, had lost his battle with cancer. “He was a great human being. He is greatly missed.” 

Each pig serves as a reminder of the love the two shared – a love that blossomed out of a derailed parking ticket on a street corner in Westwood, California. Nikki will always recall that day when she met a handsome man in blue who caught her eye and stole her heart.